


The Guilt of Still Being

by kasey8473



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-27
Updated: 2012-03-05
Packaged: 2017-10-31 20:09:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 53,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/347901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kasey8473/pseuds/kasey8473
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel and Risa survive Lucifer’s trap in ’The End’ by the skin of their teeth, only to discover there was a reason he let them go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Go, go, go!

Castiel thought that to himself as he ran and kept running, fully prepared right now to die on this reckless mission, because what else could possibly happen? He heard his own voice, shouting, whooping and laughing, and was determined to go out with the biggest bang possible. If Dean wanted a diversion, he’d give him a diversion and the longest one he could. Risa kept pace with him, though she was silent as they ran, giving him annoyed glances. She apparently didn’t share his frame of mind at present.

They were the fastest of the team, either that or the luckiest, for they managed to outpace the Croats and slip through an opening.

With each near miss he felt a high and riding on that high, he headed to the outer doors at the back of the building. Upon his running exit from the building, with that exhilarating thrill circling through his body, Castiel was unprepared for the sight of Dean lying still on the ground in the garden. He came to a skidding stop, unable to understand what he was seeing at first. His stomach lurched and he thought he was going to throw-up, swallowing back those heaves.

He’d had a hope that maybe, just maybe, this plan of Dean’s would work and they’d actually beat Lucifer. The thought had bolstered him slightly, given him the little extra oomph to keep moving. He’d imagined Dean standing over Lucifer’s dead body, a victory they’d wanted for so long. He’d thought maybe Dean would even be glad to see him alive. He’d thought he could bear being human if they could only win. It wouldn’t get him back all he’d been, but to win against Lucifer….

This though…. He couldn’t process it. Dean’s head was at an unnatural angle, his body limp.

Risa barreled through the door behind him, slamming into him and sending them both sprawling. They fell in a tangle of arms, legs and weapons, Risa immediately rolling, scrambling to Dean and dragging him to her.

“No, no, ooohhh nooo….” The moment she moved him, it was apparent that his neck had been broken, his head lolling back. That was why his head had been at that funny angle. “Dean!” She shook her head. “No, no, it can’t be, no, he’s not dead, he’s not dead….”

The sounds of their pursuers grew louder and some sliver of self-preservation reared up, coming to life inside him. How could he want to live, when he didn’t want to live? He got to his feet and pushed forward, grabbing hold of Risa’s jacket as he passed her. For the space of a few seconds, she was a dead weight in his hands and then she was moving with him, letting him drag her along.

They took his vehicle, abandoning the others, tires screeching. He expected Croats to surround them and block them, but apparently, Lucifer had accomplished what he’d planned and didn’t care if the team Dean had brought was dead or infected.

Dean Winchester was dead…and there was no hope remaining.

They drove the hours back to the camp in shocked silence, staying silent until he parked just down the road from the entrance. We need to prepare ourselves, he thought. We need to decide how much to tell them.

“It’s going to be chaos in there when we tell them Dean’s dead,” Risa said, voice quivering with emotion.

Castiel wondered if she’d actually had feelings for Dean. He thought maybe she had. “Yes.” When people didn’t have a clear leader, bad things tended to happen and without Dean, there was no leader.

“Maybe it’d be best not to remain here.”

He turned his head. She was twisting her hands together over and over.

“What do you think, Castiel?” She looked at him, shrugged, and peered down the road. “We get out before some yahoo declares himself leader and screws us all?”

“What are you suggesting, Risa?”

He’d known she was fully capable of manipulating to get what she wanted and, as they sat there, he saw the decision to manipulate him in her eyes. It was mixed with some of the desperation he knew was in his own gaze all the time anymore. She was going to use her feminine charms to sway him to do what she wanted and they both knew that he was going to let her. He almost smiled at how predictable he’d become.

A pretty face, a willing body against him. One or the other would do. Both was always a bonus. 

She moved close against him, turning on the seat. One hand rose to caress his cheek before sliding back to the nape of his neck, fingers curling in his hair. Her other hand landed on his knee and did a slow, seductive tour to rest high on his thigh. Another two inches and she’d be actively groping his crotch. Risa leaned forward, breath hot against his ear. “We go back, pack up what we can -- food, clothes, weapons, and all the essentials -- and ditch camp. Without Dean, we both know it’s going to fall apart. He was the one kept it all together.”

“We leave together?” He dropped one hand off the steering wheel to cover her hand. “Just you and me?”

Risa was both pretty and apparently willing to give him her body if he’d go along with her wants. With Dean gone, he had no one left in the camp that he honestly cared about. People he knew, yeah, but none he truly cared about. Dean had been the one he loved. He could leave and not leave anyone behind. But why was she so desperate to go? Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her lick her lips.

Castiel felt numb, drained of emotion, and very, very tired, his thoughts not quite as clear as they should be for his un-drugged state.

“I think two can survive easier than a group. I mean, not to brag, but we’re both good. We both know how to find supplies. Dean taught us everything he knew. We can do this… _Cas_.” She pressed her mouth to the spot directly in front of his ear, flicking her tongue along his skin.

Now he got the shortened name treatment, an attempt at creating a far more intimate relationship than they really had. “If we’re so good, why don’t we lead the camp?”

“With all of the people I’ve pissed off and the ones you’ve screwed one way or the other? Would that really be a good idea?”

She had a point. There were plenty of people there who wouldn’t look him in the eye during the day, but knocked on his door at night, too ashamed to admit what they were doing and what they wanted him to do. In a calculating bit of his own, he removed his hand from hers and placed it on her own thigh, imitating that seductive movement she’d used. “If we do that, leave together, abandon them all….” He turned his head, mouth a fraction from hers. “Tit for tat, Risa.”

“I’m not a tease.”

“Yes, you are.”

Drawing back, she frowned. “Did Dean tell you that?”

“No, but if you think you’re going to manipulate me into doing what you want with a promise of sex and then brush me off when we’re out of the camp….” He shook his head. “Why me? Why not one of the other men in there?”

“Why not you?” She shrugged. “You want the truth?”

“It’d be nice.”

“I’m asking you because I know you’re the kind of guy who cares if a woman is satisfied. I’d hate to spend weeks or months with some selfish jerk only concerned with whether or not _he_ gets off.”

“I can see how that would be…frustrating.” It still wasn’t the truth, but he’d let her insist it was. He slid his hand up her leg the inches she’d yet to move hers on his, resting his hand there against her, watching her closely. While she let out a soft gasp, she didn’t move. “See, Risa, I don’t mind being manipulated by a fine piece of ass such as yourself, but for this plan of yours to work, we have to trust each other.”

“And you don’t trust me? Castiel, I just had your back against a bunch of Croats --”

“That has nothing to do with it. That’s not the trust I’m talking about.”

She lifted her hand from his leg and pointed in the direction of her lap. “I’m sitting here with your hand on my crotch. That’s not trust?”

“It’s a start.”

Risa was confused now, shaking her head. “I don’t…understand.”

“I don’t trust you for the sex, Risa. The other stuff I do trust you on, as much as I trust anyone that’s not Dean.”

She pushed away from him, back onto the other side of the seat. “What do you want?”

“First, I need to know exactly what you’re offering mixed in with that plan. Are we talking a one-shot roll in the hay, or get it when I want it? See, it’s important to have a good idea so I know what to bring. I mean, if you’re not putting out, then really Risa, I see no benefit of going with you.”

“I’m offering companionship.”

He laughed. “Now that’s a tricky word. In one context it means friendship. In --”

“I mean sex included, okay?” She swallowed, wiping her hands on her thighs. “I’ll put out as much as you want, when you want --”

“Yeah, why is that? Why are you so hot to leave camp?”

She stared at him, a glimmer of fear growing in her eyes. “Because I don’t want to be there trapped behind the fences when Lucifer comes for us. He _is_ coming for us. Why else did he let us go?”

“What makes you think he….” He squeezed his eyes shut with a groan. Too easy. Their escape had been too easy. Lucifer hadn’t just let them go, he’d let them go for a reason. He pounded the steering wheel with one hand. “Damn it! I should have seen it! He let us go to lead him back here!” Castiel put the vehicle into drive and jammed his foot onto the accelerator. The back end of the truck fishtailed a moment before righting. “You could have said something.”

“I thought you knew. I thought you were playing dumb to make me negotiate what you wanted. Jesus, Cas, you were with Dean for how long and you didn’t figure that out?”

He wondered just how long they had before Lucifer and his Croats arrived to slaughter the camp. “We get in, you grab weapons and ammo. Forget clothes, I doubt we have time. We can always find more on the road. I’ll get some food.”

As they approached the gates, Risa cleared her throat. “Do we tell them he’s coming?”

“Would it be kinder not to?”

She hugged herself. “No, but if we tell them, there’s no way we’re getting out of there. They’ll close the gates and try that medieval defensive walls shit. We’ll be trapped.”

Castiel made a decision right then that caused a trickle of shame inside him. When he spoke, his voice was thick. “We’ll tell them Dean sent us back for more supplies. We had to go further than we thought and we’re rendezvousing with him.”

“We lie?” Risa’s eyes were very wide when he glanced at her.

“You did say you don’t want to be trapped here. Any better idea?”

She didn’t answer.

The lie was a surprisingly good one. Using the words ‘Dean said’ brought instant results without question. It had a team scrambling to shove supplies -- those things he and Risa would need -- into the truck and while they did that, Castiel went to his cabin. He had some food and some medicines on the shelves. It wasn’t much, but it’d help. 

He found five women waiting, stretched out together in a tangle of limbs upon his bed. With a glance at each one, he went to his stash of pills, searching for one in particular. His hands shook as he found it and opened the bottle. Would it be kinder to let them die the way they would when Lucifer arrived?

No. This was better. It’d save them pain.

He poured pills into the palm of his hand, thinking he’d give each double what he himself took. For their weight, it wouldn’t take long. Tears welled in his eyes.

I’m killing them, he thought. I’m murdering them.

He closed his hand around the pills.

I’m saving them.

He blinked away the tears and turned to face them, pasting on a gentle smile. 

They trusted him, each taking the pills he handed them, swallowing them with some of the vodka in the bottle by the couch. Castiel kissed each one, told each she was beautiful, and promised he’d spend plenty of time with them when he returned. They laid back down, watching while he threw a few things into a bag. If they questioned his need for condoms, none of them said a word.

Maybe it was expected of him. Food, clothes, gun, ammunition, condoms…. All a part of Castiel’s survival kit. Or maybe they assumed he had something going with another member of the team that had gone out. 

He took what little food he had on the shelves and shoved it into a bag. As he went out the door, he dropped pill bottles into the bag as well and zipped it shut. There wasn’t time to do a thorough search for his favorites. He’d have to make-do with what he’d grabbed until they could find a source for more.

He didn’t look back.

Risa was waiting at the car, shifting her weight nervously back and forth from foot to foot, her arms crossed over her chest. The back of the truck was stuffed with items. “I thought you said no clothes.”

“It’s not clothes. I had to take care of a few people.” He stepped close, opening the driver’s side door and placing the bag inside.

Her glance turned to his cabin. “Cas….” She knew as well as anyone that he had something of an ‘open door’ policy for his cabin. Anyone was welcome, any time. She’d realize there were people inside and maybe she’d even realize what he’d done to spare them from Lucifer. 

“Get in the car, Risa.”

“Did you --”

“Are we going or not?” He leaned over very close to her. “Because if we’re not, I’ll go back inside, down a few pills to go to happy land, and you can go meet Lucifer at the gates.”

Her hand grasped his, squeezed, and released it. “We’re going.” Risa got in the passenger side and slammed the door.

He was the one who drove them away from the camp, through the outpouring of wild game and other animals that came from the woods around them. There were deer loping towards the woods by the camp, the sides of the road alive with the smaller creatures, all fleeing towards the camp.

“We should turn around, go the other way,” Risa breathed. “They’re running from something.”

They were heading right towards the coming Croats. It was they that sent the animals running. “We’ll take right or left at the fork depending on which direction they originate from. Put your seatbelt on. This won’t be a smooth ride much longer.”

As they approached the fork, they began to see people running after the animals. Croats.

“What do we do if they’re coming from both directions?”

“Pull a ‘u’ and floor it.” A few minutes later, that was their only option. Lucifer had an army of Croats coming towards them. The vehicle skidded sickeningly on loose gravel as he cranked the wheel to turn them. For a second, he thought they were going to roll, but the truck stayed upright.

They took the long way around the lake, tension rising between them. He thought he could almost hear screams in the air….

“Where do we go,” Risa asked.

“Away,” he replied. He had a vague idea where to go, but he’d need to look at a map to plan a route. He knew there was one somewhere in the back. They’d plan a route, stick to it, find a place to rest. Then they’d decide what to do.

“You have something in mind?”

“Maybe.”

She seemed satisfied with that answer, leaning her head back and sighing.

They spent the night in a barn, with the truck in the lower level and the barn door jammed shut to keep things out. The barn was cleaned of hay and animals, though the scent remained of the animals. From the hayloft, they could see the immediate area.

How could a world in chaos look so peaceful?

Castiel unrolled the sleeping bag he kept in the back of the truck and laid it in one stall. Their jackets would have to be pillows.

Risa stepped in the stall, handing him a canteen. “Water?”

“Thanks.” He drank his fill, then handed it back. “Any food that doesn’t need cooking?”

“There’s a can of SPAM on top in one box.”

“That’ll work.”

“Cold,” she asked with a grimace.

“You’re going to be picky now?” He fished his lighter out of one pocket and tossed it to her. “Singe it with that.”

Risa made a face at him and tossed it back. “I’ll eat it cold, thank you.”

Whoever had packed the food had included two camp plates, the kind that broke down for storage and could be used as pans if necessary. They shared one plate rather than using both, Risa barely eating.

He knew she was watching him, couldn’t really escape from it, and waited for whatever was on her mind.

“What did you do to those people in your cabin?”

“I made them not care anymore.”

“You killed them?”

“Not exactly. They swallowed a few pills and went to sleep, Risa, and when Lucifer got there, they were already gone.”

She looked away. “I don’t think I could have done that. Shooting Croats is one thing, but that….”

He set the plate aside and leaned back on his hands. “What do you think you did when you got in that truck with me and left the camp?”

Risa shook her head. “It’s not the same, Castiel. I didn’t murder them.”

“Did you tell anyone he was coming for them?”

“No.”

“Then you murdered them, same as I did. We’re both guilty of handing all of them over.”

She drew her legs up and wrapped her arms around them, resting her chin on her knees. “I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

“No, I don’t suppose you did.” He took care of the plate and the trash from the slight meal, making sure they were packed and ready for morning, casting a glance back at Risa in the stall. Her back was to him. She’d taken her jacket off and appeared to be shivering. Or maybe she was crying. He gave her the privacy, looking over the items they’d been given.

Gas can. A couple boxes of food that needed little preparation. Weapons and ammunition. Wedged down between two boxes he found a rolled up blanket and first aid kit. Castiel suppressed a smile. Of course the people had packed well. They thought it was for Dean. Anything for Dean, who saved them from a world gone mad.

Dean.

He sobbed, then gulped in a breath and held it until the urge to cry passed. Later he’d cry, but not now. Now they had to be quiet and crying the way he wanted was going to be loud and messy. Going to the passenger side, he leaned in and snagged one of the bottles of pills in the glove compartment. Castiel shook out two pills and dry swallowed them. Give him a short while and he’d be drifting nicely.

As he approached Risa she looked up at him. “Do you think they’re all gone?”

“Yes. Some quicker than others.” Kneeling behind her, he took the clasp from her hair and set it aside. When he placed his hands on her shoulders, he found them tense, the muscles tight. He rubbed them, gently at first, then harder, digging his thumbs in as the muscles released the tension. Gradually, Risa leaned back against him. Later, he knew they’d have sex in the dark. It’d be tender and slow tonight, both pretending they were half asleep, and both crying.

How did he know? Because it was human nature to want to reaffirm life after escaping death and they’d certainly done that twice today already. As for the tears…. Everything they’d learned to live with was gone. What had passed for normal was shattered.

“We should be dead, too.”

“And yet we live.” He pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder, sliding one hand down her arm.

“Will he come after us?” She turned to face him. Her cheeks were damp.

“I doubt it,” he told her. “He doesn’t really have to, does he? Where are we going to go, Risa? The planet is his. What pockets of civilization there are live in fear of Croatoan and the larger the group, the greater the fear. We can run and keep running, but eventually we’ll be his.”

He brought two glow sticks to the sleeping bag and with them on, the growing dark in the barn and outside didn’t seem quite so dark. He could almost pretend that they were on a mission from Dean, holing up for the night before continuing on in the morning. Perhaps if he pretended it was so, if he pretended Dean was still alive….

Don’t go down that road, he told himself.

They didn’t talk and after awhile, when darkness had fallen completely, Risa shinnied out of her clothes, carefully folding them and laying them to one side. She stood naked a moment, then slid inside the sleeping bag. When she closed her eyes, she seemed a far cry from the woman from earlier in the day. That woman had been confident and determined. This one was scared and dispirited.

He stood and removed his own clothes, folding them like she had hers, before joining her. She pressed against him, mouth finding his, her hands cold against his back. As an afterthought, he reached behind him and covered the glow sticks with his shirt, bringing the darkness fully upon them. Risa shuddered.

Castiel lost himself in her.

~~~~~~~~~~

They shouldn’t have survived.

Risa cried quietly to herself, her face pressed to her knees and jeans soaking up her tears. Behind her, she could hear Castiel looking through the supplies they’d been given. She’d thought there’d be no shame or guilt in doing what she had to to survive. She’d thought a lot of things, most of which had turned out to be false.

There was shame.

There was guilt.

They’d left those people to die. 

She wondered if any of them had cursed her or Castiel when they died. Had they realized Cas and Risa lied to them? Had they told Lucifer two were missing from their number? Would he keep coming for them until he found them?

She and Castiel…. Partners in crime.

He didn’t think Lucifer would bother coming after them. She hoped he was right.

Castiel brought her a glow stick, one of the small ones that wouldn’t last long, but would be enough to keep the darkness from feeling suffocating. He bent it and shook it for her before doing his own and joining her by the sleeping bag. She studied him out of the corner of her eye.

How soon until he went into withdrawal from those drugs he took on a regular basis? Risa thought that maybe she had until tomorrow at the longest -- unless he’d grabbed some of them. Maybe that’s what he’d really been doing at the car. Maybe he’d popped a few pills and would be good to go for a few hours longer.

It wasn’t a secret that he popped pills. He didn’t seem to care who knew.

She knew that later, in the dark, she’d let him inside her. She’d close her eyes, press her face to his shoulder, and for once she wouldn’t let his lifestyle bother her. The way he’d lived in the camp no longer mattered, did it? It was the two of them now. His life was her life and vice-versa. They were linked together. She was going to let that emotional link become a physical one.

Later wasn’t much later, but Risa was tired and beginning to feel the effects of the day in the fuzziness of her thoughts and the weariness of her body. Exhaustion made her feel slow and clumsy. She stripped off her clothes, tried to pretend she was relaxed and comfortable with Castiel’s gaze on her nudity, and slid into the sleeping bag. 

When he joined her a few minutes later, she was surprised by just how much she needed him.


	2. Chapter 2

The scenery passed in a blur, a visual accompaniment to Risa’s own racing thoughts. She couldn’t believe Dean was dead. It seemed wrong that he was dead, returned now to the dust of the ground, decomposing where he lay.

Ashes to ashes….

It would have been nice to have had the time to bury him. Or burn him, whatever he would have wanted. Castiel would have known that information.

She hadn’t loved him, though she had liked him one helluva lot. Even when he was a complete and utter bastard, there was still something about him that drew her. _Had_ drawn her, rather. Risa thought that if time had allowed and he’d managed to keep his dick in his pants with other women, she might have grown to love him.

She pressed her forehead to the glass of the side window, eyes closing.

Castiel was driving. He seemed to have the rudiments of a plan, which was more than she did at present, so she didn’t argue about who drove.

In the dark the night before, he’d asked if she meant what she’d said right outside the camp -- that she’d give him her body if he came with her. She’d meant it. This wasn’t a world she wanted to be alone in and Risa knew he’d be good company. She knew he’d take care of her needs if she did the same for his, whatever those needs were. Maybe they hadn’t socialized much in the camp, but Dean had put them together on missions before.

Dean had once made a comment that she had a lot in common with Castiel. At the time, she’d thought he was being sarcastic, as she’d just questioned an order he’d given, a thing that Castiel did with ease, as though he had no fear of Dean losing his temper. Castiel knew better than anyone how far Dean could be pushed.

Now she wasn’t so sure questioning his order was what he’d been referring to. The cd’s and tapes she’d seen in the cab of the truck were all artists Risa herself listened to and the three books Castiel had shoved beneath her seat looked like stories she’d like to read when he was finished with them.

She sighed.

Nor could she believe, in the light of day, that she’d had sex with Castiel and had been the one to initiate it. Logically, she knew it had happened, the memory was there. Her mind just didn’t want to process it.

\-- _His weight on her, knees nudging her thighs apart. His stomach brushing hers, his face buried in her neck._ \--

She shifted uncomfortably. Sooner or later she was going to have to face her own actions. All of her actions.

But not today.

Today she was still too raw from what had happened the day before. Everyone she’d known for the past months was gone, except for Castiel. The way of life was gone, as was any illusion of safety. They were now outside those walls, traveling in an insane world. She couldn’t retreat to her cabin, or relax in any sort of comfort. In order to do any relaxing, they’d have to find a new place to call home and prepare it. There was no going back. Whatever happened now, she and Castiel were a team. They had to stand together, united in survival.

Reaching out, she flipped on the heater and settled back in the seat. Slowly, Risa drifted to sleep. It seemed that no sooner had she closed her eyes than she was being shaken awake. The truck was stopped, the engine idling.

“Are we there,” she asked groggily, stretching a little, then fumbling for her seatbelt.

Castiel stood in the open passenger door, hands helping her turn and slide out to stand, his voice oddly strained as he replied, “No. The bridge I’d intended to take is washed out. We had to circle back and go around.”

“So why are we stopped?”

He didn’t step back. Instead, he stepped closer, body pressing to hers. Risa put her hands on the doorframe to steady herself. The truck was on the side of the road and the only other sounds besides the truck and them were the birds and the wind in the trees. She glanced around. The road was deserted, no other vehicles in sight. The clouds in the sky looked swollen, bruised, and she could smell rain.

His hands skimmed up her sides beneath her jacket, then around, fingers grazing against the curves of her breasts. “Is that clear enough,” he asked. “Or maybe this is clearer?” Lowering his hands, he unfastened her belt. “I want you, Risa.” He slid his fingers along the flesh just above the waistband of her jeans. That touch tickled a little. “Now.”

She made a convulsive movement back, away from him, but there was nowhere to go.

One hand raised again, cupping her jaw, thumb sweeping across her lower lip. “You promised. When I want. Even if it’s by the side of the road in broad daylight.” His eyes widened a fraction, his lips trembling. “You promised.”

He was hurting inside. Risa could see the glint of that pain in his eyes and the need for something to dull that pain. That something he wanted was her. “Okay.” She nodded, releasing her grip on the doorframe and relaxing back against him. “Okay, Castiel.”

His mouth covered hers, tongue darting hot and quick. Now wasn’t the time for slow and tender, his kiss reflecting that. Castiel pulled back. “Turn.” When she put her back to him, he lifted her hair away from her neck and placed a kiss there. “Take your jeans and panties down.”

Risa did as he told her, hearing the rustle of his own clothes behind her. He took her like that, with her legs spread as far as the jeans would allow and her body bent against the passenger seat. She closed her eyes and pretended he was using a condom, when she knew damn well he wasn’t. In the back of her mind was the vague memory of Dean telling her that Cas ‘wasn’t really consistent with the birth control’. It hadn’t seemed important at the time. She supposed she should care now, but honestly? Risa didn’t care at all. She couldn’t bring herself to care.

When their clothes were back in place and she was facing him once more, he held her, his arms tight around her and cheek pressed to hers. He shivered against her, gulping and sobbing, his breath hot against her. Risa embraced him, stroking his hair with her hands in soothing passes. “Shh….” He sagged against her until it was she holding him, while he clung to her like a lifeline.

She didn’t know how long they stood there, him crying into the curve of her neck and holding her so tightly it hurt to breathe, and her comforting him. She kept an eye on the road and surroundings, as he was in no shape to do it. When it started to rain, he let her go and returned to the driver’s side, getting in and waiting for her to close her door before pulling back onto the road.

He didn’t speak, nor did she expect him to.

As she sat there beside him, her face flushed, the heat of that flush traveling down her neck and chest, tears coming to her eyes. She let them fall unchecked, not wiping them away. She’d made her choice and she’d stand by her promise to him.

The rain on the windshield and the motion of the truck on the road lulled her back to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

Castiel drove to Bobby Singer’s house. It was the only plan he could come up with right now. These past years, Dean had been the one planning, doing the leading, while Cas fell in behind him to follow. He’d gladly followed Dean’s direction, especially once the human condition had kicked in and he’d had more emotion and pain to deal with than he’d known _how_ to deal with. Dean had told him what to do for the most part, and he’d done it.

Not to say he hadn’t gone his own way, because he had. While Dean hadn’t minded the drugs and alcohol at first, or the pretty women, he’d become increasingly bitter on Castiel’s use of them as the months had passed. He’d wanted Castiel to stay with him on the front lines, the sort of partnership Dean had had with Sam before Sam’s fall. Castiel couldn’t do that. He wasn’t Sam, could never be Sam, and wouldn’t try to take that place in Dean’s life even if Dean desired it.

They’d been friends, but their friendship had odd boundaries Cas didn’t think anyone could really understand. Even he hadn’t fully understood them. He’d pulled Dean from hell, sacrificed everything for him, and held on to life for him. Some would call that love. Perhaps it was. Dean had been everything to him. Had Dean loved him back in such a complete way? No. He didn’t want to acknowledge that, but it was the truth. Dean hadn’t loved him back like that, not in the end anyway. Perhaps in the beginning, there’d been that love there. Somewhere along the way, a rift had formed between them, a rift not caused by one thing, but rather many that built up over months.

Maybe it was the continued drug and alcohol use. Maybe it was the orgies that didn’t always include just women with him. Maybe it had been Dean’s realization one evening that Cas would have taken him into his bed like he had others if Dean had even hinted he was interested.

That had freaked Dean out pretty well for awhile. He’d said that Cas’s moral compass was so far skewed it couldn’t work right anymore, that he didn’t know right behavior from wrong behavior, and what the hell was wrong with him that any of what he was doing was remotely acceptable?

Cas had called him a prude and insisted pleasure was pleasure no matter where it came from before telling him to try it before he condemned it, because the end of everything was the perfect time to lose his inhibitions.

Dean had refused the offer and said nothing more about it directly. They hadn’t spoken for three weeks after that, but when they had spoken, it was as though Dean’s revelation about Castiel’s feelings hadn’t happened. Their friendship became a weird mix of camaraderie, a shared past that came with it’s own issues, and a mutual unspoken agreement to avoid all things that made them uncomfortable with each other. They were both good at either ignoring things they didn’t like about each other, or glossing over them like they weren’t even there. He ignored Dean’s muttered comments, Dean ignored his sarcasm and so on.

He yawned and turned the heater down, returning his thoughts to Bobby’s house. If nothing else, they could hole up in the panic room for awhile and sleep in peace. They both needed restful sleep. Speaking of sleep…. Castiel glanced at Risa. She was asleep in the passenger seat, having finally caved in to a deep exhausted slumber.

He thought he should feel guilty for wanting to pull over to the side of the road and wake her for another quickie, but there was no guilt in him for desiring that action. He’d lost the guilt over wanting sex a long time ago, learning to use those pleasurable moments to lighten his moods and temporarily push away emotional pains.

Rather than wake her, he imagined he did, like he had once before. He’d pull over on the side of the road, very close to the ditch and get out, leaving the truck running and the door open. She’d open her own door and slide out to stand….

Maybe the next time she wouldn’t cry after.

Maybe next time _he_ wouldn’t.

Castiel didn’t pull over.

Risa was going to hate herself soon. Tomorrow maybe, or the next day. She was going to look back at what she’d done to stay alive and hate herself. Perhaps she’d even hate him. Within days, he thought she was going to become like those people in the camp who’d only slunk to him in darkness and never looked him in the eyes during the daylight hours. Given time, he thought she might even progress to the level of those who’d come to him in the day as well.

He _was_ surprised that she’d bargained her body to him. She really did know what he’d want. The fact that she’d done that spoke for how desperate she’d felt at that moment. Did she realize he’d given something to her as well? Did she realize he’d given her…himself?

For a very long time, Castiel had wanted to die. He’d held on for Dean, knowing that Dean needed him to live, a visual link Dean both loved and hated to the turning point of his existence. Dean’s death had released him from the need to hold on, yet in typical human fashion, he’d immediately transferred himself to Risa. A part of him needed to live because she so obviously needed him to. She hadn’t admitted she was terrified of being alone, but he knew that was her reason. He’d observed her enough over the months to glean that. She didn’t mind being alone in a crowd, so to speak, but actually being the last person standing frightened her deeply. Did she know he understood that?

He gave her himself, all of him, just like he had to Dean. He did it despite the crippling fears and the knowledge that they’d probably never find real safety anywhere. She became Dean for him -- a new Dean, and one he could screw seven ways to Sunday.

Castiel was okay with that. He could live with it. It wasn’t healthy, he knew, but then he’d ceased to function healthy emotionally years ago and didn’t let it bother him anymore. Nothing in the world was healthy. Did it matter if he was?

He woke Risa and pulled on to Bobby’s property slowly. There’d been no sign of people or Croats for over an hour. Hopefully that was a blessing.

Bobby’s house was a mess. Castiel had already known it would be. It had been that way the last time he was there, when he and Dean had gone to bury the bodies from Bobby’s stubborn attempt to go home. The attempt had ended in Bobby’s death.

They cleared the house room by room in the manner Dean had trained them, finding no one inside. It appeared no one had been there either, at least not to stay. The piece of trim that covered the hiding place on the mantel was gone. Past Dean had said that’s where he’d found the picture that had brought him to Camp Chitaqua. Castiel swallowed hard. “That’s where the picture was,” he said, touching the open spot.

“What picture,” Risa asked, her voice still hushed.

He turned, recalling that she hadn’t been in the room when past Dean had mentioned it. “The picture the other Dean used to find us.”

She stared at him, then the hole. “We should bring in supplies before someone or something comes along and hears us.”

They brought in items from the truck and took them down to the panic room. It was hard work that they hurried through, one taking a load down, while the other watched for an attack, then reversing back and forth until they were done. When that was completed, they worked at finishing boarding up the lower windows. The team that had taken Bobby home hadn’t gotten very far before disaster had struck.

Cas barricaded the doors and went downstairs to the panic room. Risa was laying the sleeping bag and blanket on the bed chained to the wall. It still had a mattress, though he suspected it probably had a few vermin in it by now.

She stood and shrugged. “Beggars can’t be choosers. Mattress doesn’t look infested, but I guess we’ll find out. I’ve covered it as best I can. Maybe we can take it outside and beat it with a stick or something tomorrow.”

The room was littered with what Bobby had had in there and what they’d brought down. He went to a box and opened it, sorting through the food. “There’s some canned chicken in here.”

“Why not,” she asked and sat on the edge of the bed. “Any bread? We could really live it up.”

He chuckled. “Um…no. There are, however, a bunch of apple and cherry snack pies in one of these boxes.”

“Apple snack pies.”

“Dean always said they were a suitable substitute for real pie. I saw them this morning when I dug out the granola bars.” The bars had been homemade, not commercially packaged. One of the women in the camp had made huge batches when they’d had the ingredients for them.

“Okay. Canned chicken and snack pies for dinner it is.”

They ate directly from the cans, a can of chicken each, then searched together for the snack pies. Risa took an apple one and Cas chose cherry.

Risa looked around the room with a long sigh. There were shadows under her eyes. Cas thought he probably had matching shadows under his own eyes. “I can’t work on this tonight. I can barely think straight.”

He curled up with her beneath a blanket not long after their cold, quick meal, sleeping for fourteen hours straight and waking in the same position he’d fallen asleep in. Raising up on an elbow, he looked down at her. He knew why Dean had been attracted to her. Not only was she beautiful, she hadn’t been in awe of him like many of the other women in the camp had been. She’d question an order and she’d give attitude. In another time, Dean would have called her ‘fun handful’. In this time, he’d called her a ‘pain in the ass, but a damn good lay’. He was right on one count, but Cas had yet to find her a pain in the ass.

She stirred and he touched her cheek, fingertips barely brushing her skin. “Risa?”

With a deep breath, she opened her eyes. “Still tired,” she mumbled.

“We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

Risa groaned. “No.”

“Yes.” Working at something would keep them from dwelling on what had happened. Castiel thought it was better if they didn’t stop to think about their circumstances yet. They needed the house secure and stocked before they both broke down completely.

“What time is it?”

“Does it matter?”

She stretched. “I guess not.”

“I’ll get something opened up to eat while you get dressed.” He left the bed and dragged on yesterday’s clothes. By the time he was done, she still hadn’t moved. “The faster we finish preparations, the sooner we can relax.”

“I know.”

The second day found an end to the windows and the start of trying to get the water on and the generator working. Castiel had learned how to work and fix both in the camp. Dean had insisted he know both skills. It came in handy now. He thought water was the main thing. They needed it to drink, to cook with, and to bathe. Electricity could wait.

It was fairly easy to fix the water issue. By the end of the day, he had it working. Cas wiped his hands on a cloth and looked up at Risa. “Without electricity, it’ll be cold water, but it’s still water. We’ll wash just the same.” He shrugged.

Risa whistled in appreciation. “You’re good.”

“That I am.” He got to his feet and went into the panic room. Earlier he’d found something he thought she’d appreciate: a Ziploc baggie with a sliver of soap in it. Castiel held it up with the quirk of a brow. “Ladies first.”

“Where did you get this?” She snatched it from him, the barest hint of a smile on her lips.

“Found it in with some of the trash. It was probably part of what Bobby brought that we missed gathering up to take back.” He was glad he’d found it, glad to see the delight in her eyes.

It was a sad world when soap made a person ecstatic.

While she showered, he double checked the doors and barricades and searched for something to dry off with. He ended up pulling down curtains and shaking them out to get most of the dust out. Who knew where the towels were? They’d have to look for them, too. He took one in to Risa and kept the other for himself, then settled down to wait for his turn.

~~~~~~~~~~

Soap was a welcome thing. It had become scarce in recent days, as had things like deodorant and toothpaste. Risa hurried to shower, stripping off her clothes and stepping beneath a spray that was icy, yet still wonderful. She enjoyed the shower despite the fact that the bath stall area was minus a shower curtain and the bathroom door hung open drunkenly on it’s hinges.

Castiel knocked as she was washing her hair and came in, a mass of cloth in his hands. “Here. Thought you’d like something to dry off with. It’s all I could find right now.”

She half expected him to want to join her, but while his appreciative gaze slipped over her, he turned after a moment and left the room. Risa hurried to finish and dried off, slightly amused that he’d apparently ripped down curtains. She wrapped it around her toga style, rinsed her underwear and shirt and wrung each out, then slipped her boots back on and went down to the panic room. “Any ideas what would be a good place to hang these up to dry?”

He shrugged. “Might be some place upstairs.”

There _was_ a place upstairs, a line coiled inside a plastic case in one room that had a corresponding place to hook it on the opposite wall. It was an odd place for one of those, but who knew what Bobby Singer had really used it for. Risa hooked it, laid her clothes on the line and returned downstairs. The floor creaked above her and she started to cry.

She felt like a whore.

Risa curled up on the bunk and cried. If he heard her, Castiel probably assumed she was crying for the people they’d left, and for Dean -- like he did. She could hear him now, his sobs barely audible over the sound of the water.

He may like to drown himself in wine, women, and song, but he _had_ learned how to make things work. The shower was a blessing, yet even scrubbed clean of a couple days dirt and of Castiel’s sweat and semen, Risa felt dirty, like she’d been tarnished somehow.

She’d exchanged her body for company, so she wouldn’t be lonely as she fled the camp. She’d saved her own ass only to give it away to Castiel.

What kind of woman does that?

A desperate one, her mind replied and she sat up. Above, the water stopped. Risa wiped her eyes. She’d sold herself to him and would continue to do so just so he’d stay. She faced that truth with a shudder of shame. She was going to do whatever sex act he wanted to keep him happy. A happy Castiel wouldn’t leave her alone in this world to fend for herself. He’d stay because he was getting what he wanted from her.

Risa almost laughed. It was funny really. She’d never been the sort of woman to _need_ a man before. She’d even turned her nose up at the people who flocked to Cas’s cabin, dismissing them as pathetic and likening them to junkies in need of a fix of him. Sure, she’d let herself be sucked in to Dean’s charm. What woman didn’t?

All in all, Risa had thought of herself as independent, stronger than all of the rest of the women in the camp who’d traded sex for security and other things.

It turned out she simply hadn’t been desperate enough yet. Under the right circumstances, she’d prostitute herself as fast as she could.

The truth of that jabbed into her like a knife.


	3. Chapter 3

The rest of the first week they cleaned and organized, Castiel finding a kindred spirit in Risa where those issues were concerned. She liked to have things organized, with everything in it’s place and so did he. Dean hadn’t ever been particularly neat. He’d leave dirty socks in odd places and half the time he hadn’t put things back where he’d found them. He wondered what Risa’s cabin had looked like. Had she tried decorating at all like she did here? 

They made the panic room a home and cleaned both the kitchen and living room enough to use them. The rooms didn’t have the comfortably messed feel they’d had when Bobby lived here. The floors remained streaked with dirt and other matter. If they wanted to sit on the floor or lie down there, they had blankets to put down. One was permanently laid before the fire. They’d thrown out the trash strewn about and tossed out anything that wasn’t necessary that could get in the way if they needed to move quickly. The fireplace was welcome, a way to heat and cook while he tried to figure out why the generator wasn’t working.

Risa helped where she had the know-how and scrounged through the rooms for things they could use. In the attic, she found some sheets, blankets and clothes that had been boxed up and forgotten. She found the towels he’d missed as well. Together, they made the panic room as comfortable and defendable as they could.

During the day they worked, pushing themselves so they didn’t have to feel anything at all, and at night, they held each other and let exhaustion claim them for long hours at a time.

A week of hard work deserved a reward in Cas’s opinion and he brought out the half bottle of whiskey he’d found buried under trash. He’d kept it for such a moment as this, forcing himself not to drink it without her. With the fire going and a few blankets padding the floor before it, they were able to relax for a moment.

“So staying here was your plan?” Risa was beside him, lying down with her head propped on one hand. After her shower, she’d put on a dark blue robe she’d found in the attic. The box she’d found were mostly women’s clothes. Cas thought they’d probably been Bobby’s wife’s, things Bobby hadn’t been able to bear parting with. Had this robe Risa wore been something Bobby had given his wife? A birthday present? Christmas present? Something?

“For now. Until we absolutely have to move on. We can defend it and I think we should head to town soon and see if we can’t find some camping gear -- more sleeping bags, camping stove, things like that. We should stockpile as many essential goods as possible.” Setting his glass aside, he laid down facing her and placed a caressing hand on her hip. Lying closer, he could smell the clean soap scent on her skin, that same scent that was on him. They’d have to search for more soap of some kind soon. That sliver of soap had already dwindled to nearly nothing.

“Do you think it’s possible to live here?”

“Bobby certainly thought he could.” He slid his hand to the loose knot on the belt of the robe and worked the knot free.

“Bobby died.” She rolled onto her back, shifting a little, inviting him to touch her.

“Not through his own fault.” Bobby’s death hadn’t been his fault. He couldn’t have known one of the team who’d gone to help him get settled would become infected. Nor could he have known one of the team had an itchy trigger finger and would waste everyone just in case. That kid had fled back to the camp, admitted what he’d done and shot himself before Dean could do anything. “There’s a town nearby. Sioux Falls. We can go there, try the houses and businesses one by one, see what we can find.”

Castiel ran his fingers along the edge of the robe, then slipped them under it, palm flat on her naked belly, taking her invitation. Leaning over, he kissed her, slow and deep. He thought he’d taken enough from her this week and it was time to give back some of what he’d taken. He used his hands and mouth on her, drawing gasps and blissful sighs from her until she arched her back and cried out with a culmination of pleasure that left her body flushed and hot to the touch. Only then did he cover her body with his and find his own release inside of her.

They began venturing into town the next day, a slow, careful series of trips to look for food, clothing, and medicines. Each trip netted them something. Clothes for both of them, scrounged from a few different houses and businesses. Food such as rice and noodles and some canned goods. They even found a few medicines that made Castiel very happy and that camping gear he’d wanted.

They also found Croats. Not many, but enough to make the trips an exercise in danger and skill. Each successful trip was celebrated, one way or another. He preferred sex and liquor, or a pill or two. Risa? Not so much. She’d rather lie still with him and talk. The difference between men and women, he supposed. She wanted to talk, he wanted to screw.

He recalled Dean being that way as well. He remembered coming back from a successful hunt and watching Dean sweet talk two pretty young women into going back to the room with him. Cas also remembered Jo Harvelle’s reaction to that. Jo and Ellen had been with them off and on in those days. She’d sighed and shaken her head, sadness in her eyes. She and Ellen had exchanged a look and Ellen had handed Jo a few folded bills with an apologetic suggestion that she get her own room for a couple nights. Cas had spent that night and the next two with Ellen, learning a few more things about women.

Why hadn’t Dean ever looked at Jo? He’d wondered that then and now went back to that for a moment. Jo had certainly met Dean’s criteria of an attractive woman. What had stopped Dean from taking her to bed? Was it the fact that if he screwed her over, he’d have Ellen to deal with? Or that Jo admittedly wanted more than a few nights from a guy? Even in the Apocalypse Jo wanted something of a future. It was futile to wonder really, he supposed, as he doubted he’d ever have any answers.

He’d missed Ellen and Jo when they’d left, but like everything else, that hurt had faded away under a careful application of drugs, alcohol, women, and time.

Bobby’s house was a good place to hole up, that panic room an easy place to feel safe. Maybe they weren’t really safe, but it sure felt that way with the door closed and barred from the inside. They could sit inside and pretend the world was normal and they were there because they chose to be.

Castiel watched Risa place everything they’d found on shelves. She arranged them over and over, doing a daily inventory like he recalled Chuck doing at the camp. Clothes on the bottom shelves, food on the next two, with canned goods on the lower and packages on the upper, then medicines and toiletries on the top shelf. First one shelving unit, then another. He didn’t care how she organized them as long as he could find those pills he’d grabbed in town.

Reaching into his shirt pocket, he drew out a flat pill case and took two pills from it, swallowing them with a swig of water. He thought numbness was a good strategy at present. Maybe later he’d let himself feel a little more, but not now. Right now it hurt too much still to feel.

“Are we ever going to talk about it,” Risa asked, pausing in her task and looking over her shoulder at him. The words paralleled his action of taking the pills. Of course she wanted to discuss what he wanted to avoid. How could it be any differently?

“Talk about what?”

“Dean. Them. The people we left.” She took a breath. “What we’ve done.”

Leaning his head back, he stared up at the fan in the ceiling. “Do we have to?”

“I think so.”

Sighing, he drew his legs up onto the bed and crossed them. “Alright. Go for it, Risa.”

“Dean’s dead.” She came to him and sat beside him. “He’s gone as in really gone --”

“Generally what dead means, yes. Dean’s dead, all those people are dead, and we led Lucifer to them. Am I leaving anything out? That what you wanted to discuss? Or maybe you want to talk about this arrangement we have going here between us?”

Risa crossed her arms. “How about what happened to the other Dean? He wasn’t there when we came out.”

“Don’t know. Maybe he returned to his own time, or Lucifer took him. Does it matter where he went?”

“Was he even real?”

“You mean did we hallucinate him, like a collective thing?”

“I don’t know, maybe? If he went back, would all of this change?”

Cas groaned. “You really want to discuss time travel? Really? Is that your idea of a conversation we need to have?”

“No, I just…” she closed her eyes, shook her head, and reopened her eyes, “I want to talk about something other than finding supplies and what we need to think about to survive. I’m tired of it, Cas.”

Stretching out a hand, he cupped her cheek, swept his thumb along her cheekbone. “You want to go outside awhile?”

“There’s too many places for someone to hide out there. It’s not safe.”

“Agreed. Not what I asked. Do you want to go outside?”

Her gaze lifted to the ceiling. Outside meant potential danger. He could almost hear her thinking that. Being outside meant they could become infected. Slowly, Risa shook her head. “No. Not…not today. I just…. I feel like I have to do _something_. I can’t sit still in here.”

He pulled that pill case back out and handed it to her. “Here. Take one.”

She opened it, stared at the pills. “What are they?”

“Does it matter?”

Risa glanced at him, then back at the case. “What’ll they do?”

“Make you not care for awhile.” He brushed her hair back from her face with gentle fingers. “Take away some of the anxiety, the pain, the emotional hell going on in your head right now. Take one, Risa. Take one and lie down here with me for awhile.” Cas could see the desire for escape in her eyes. She wanted it, but he already knew she wasn’t going to take it.

She closed the case and shook her head. “No, Cas, I can’t.”

Taking it back, he returned it to his pocket. “Why not?”

“I’m not desperate enough.”

He smiled and laughed. “Yet.”

She stared at the floor. “Yet,” she agreed in a low whisper.

The time would come when she’d need something for escape. He knew that well. Everyone needed an escape eventually. What would her escape turn out to be?

~~~~~~~~~~

As the days passed, Risa began to understand Castiel’s moods, learning to anticipate them by little signs in his speech or even posture. He was moody as all hell, his moods in constant flux, much like her own. He could be up, down, and in-between all in a matter of minutes. Sometimes she wondered if he was bi-polar or something. Honestly, he behaved as though he didn’t have the learned checks and balances most people had for dealing with emotions. Made her wonder about his background before he’d met Dean. What sort of man had he been before the Apocalypse? What had happened that caused such devotion to Dean? She didn’t recall hearing anything about his past or if there’d been stories, she’d ignored them.

Perhaps one of these days she could get him to tell her. 

She crafted several versions of herself for each emotional occasion, all carefully designed to give him what he needed at that moment. She did it for that sole reason of keeping him with her. He needed variety to deal, so she gave him that.

She’d be the temptress, enticing and seducing him or the woman wanting seduction. The versions grew darker from there. With no real outlet for his aggression, he tried to keep those feelings under wraps, yet every so often she saw that edge and knew he needed relief from it. Violent, passionate relief, something to purge the emotions from him.

On those days he was sullen and sarcastic, angry and hateful, becoming frustrated with the littlest of things, like opening a can or trying to fix the likely unfixable generator. He’d kick walls and doors, slam things around and even throw things.

On those days, she pretended to be afraid of him, and maybe the first couple times she had been. She’d do or say something to goad him until he grabbed her and held her down wherever they were in the house, but only in the house, never outside. They rarely went outside anyway unless they had to. 

Was it messed up that she found it exciting when he grabbed her? He wouldn’t really hurt her, she knew that. There was never a moment when she thought he would. There was only anticipation and that thrill she got from it. Castiel didn’t hurt women, he loved them -- in any way they wanted him to.

Occasionally, Risa thought about the people they’d left. How many of them had Lucifer killed quickly and how many had suffered for hours as he’d tortured them for fun? Her dreams, when they weren’t filled with images of her own violent death, were filled with those images. Her mind came up with horrible things: them skinned alive, disemboweled, and so on. She’d wake trying to scream with images of those dying people still in her mind. It was a blessing when she didn’t remember her dreams.

Castiel dreamed, though his dreams seemed to be more pleasant than hers most of the time. She’d heard him cry out Dean’s name more than once and in a way that couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than pleasure. Risa didn’t ask him about his dreams. She didn’t ask him if he’d taken Dean into his bed like he had others in the camp. It wasn’t something she thought she wanted to know.

Her own behavior was becoming erratic and she could see it even as she couldn’t stop it. She hated him one minute, then loved and needed him the next. She wanted him to leave her alone, but then she couldn’t bear it if he ever left her. Risa didn’t trust him and she _did_ at the same time, a bunch of contradictory things that made sense and still didn’t. She was changing and he was changing and those changes weren’t good things.

Risa didn’t know how to stop the cycle they’d fallen into. For better or worse, usually worse, it got them through the days.

~~~~~~~~~~

With surprise, Castiel discovered another reason Dean had liked Risa. She would have played along with his fantasies. Dean had had a lot of fantasies. Cas remembered Dean describing them to him, unselfconscious in providing details because it was ‘only Cas’ and ‘educational’ for him. Dean had spoken a lot on things those days for merely those two reasons. He’d determined that Cas thought the porn magazines and movies too impersonal, that he couldn’t relate, so he’d sat him down and attempted to describe some typical fantasies for him. That he thought them impersonal wasn’t the case at all. He’d enjoyed both the magazines and movies, only not as openly as Dean at that time.

He hadn’t told Dean that Ellen Harvelle had already given him quite an education whenever they met up for jobs. He didn’t disclose how Ellen had seduced him the night Dean thought she was taking him clothes shopping. Ellen had already had the shopping done, drawing him into her room by his tie. To this day, Castiel wasn’t quite sure where Jo had been right then, because she hadn’t been with Ellen _or_ Dean. 

He didn’t say any of that because he’d liked the closeness those talks brought and the way Dean talked to him then, faintly reminiscent to the way he’d once spoken to Sam. Brotherly. Friendly. Intimate in a way.

Of course, Dean had discovered Cas’s sexual education had begun when he and Jo had opened the door to Jo and Ellen’s room a couple weeks later and found them together, Ellen balanced precariously on the dresser and Castiel’s body the only thing keeping her from falling. Jo had declared herself blind and Dean had calmly dragged Jo from the doorway and closed the door. He’d later remarked that Ellen had a nice rack for an older woman, but that evening had ended the talks on fantasies.

Dean had slammed a wall down between them then for some reason that Cas never had figured out.

He slid from the bed and reached for his clothes, drawing on his jeans.

Risa rolled over and sat up, drawing the sheet against her. “Maybe we could go back.”

Castiel fastened his jeans and turned to look at her, brows raising. “Back?”

“To the camp. It’s been over a month. Surely --”

“No. Lucifer probably left some Croats in case anyone _did_ walk in and there’s no way the two of us could search successfully. There’d always be the chance we missed some.” He thought it had been much longer than a month, though neither of them had really been keeping track of the days that passed.

“How is that different from being here? We haven’t searched the entire property.”

“It just is.” He didn’t want to go back there now and see the bodies of all those people left behind. And the bodies of those he’d given pills to. Just the image of them lying on his bed as they’d been when he’d left the cabin brought a stab of shame and guilt to his chest. The last thing he wanted was to see the aftermath of that.

“So what do we do, Cas? Hide out here until we run out of everything? Screw each other to death?”

“Wouldn’t that be a helluva way to go out?” He put his hands on his hips and gave her a cocky smile. “I’m game if you are.”

She snorted, shook her head, and rolled her eyes. “Would you be serious?”

“I _was_. I brought some pills, Risa. We could take a few, have a last go at each other, then fall asleep in each other’s arms and never wake up.” He could see the offer tempted her, but Risa was a fighter to the end. His offer would be a very last resort. Him though? He could easily do exactly what he’d suggested. He thought he’d like to have her be the last woman in his life and the one he descended into death with.

“No. No pills, Castiel.”

“Okay.” He sat beside her. “Do you have any suggestions?”

The sheet slipped down. “No. I’m all out of suggestions.”

“Then I guess we hide out here until we’re forced to leave.”

She kicked at the covers until they were pulled free and she could toss them aside. “Great,” she snapped. Risa got up, pulling on a t-shirt the came to mid-thigh. “Just great.”

“What do you want from me, Risa? Hmm? A big plan? I don’t have one.”

“Dean would have,” she muttered just loud enough to hear.

Castiel uttered a harsh laugh. “Really? You think that? Do you have any idea how often he had no idea what he was doing next? At least half the time Dean didn’t have any sort of plan except ‘go in and kill whatever we’re hunting’.” And when Cas could still listen in on thoughts, he’d known it was actually less than half the time. “He’d fly by the seat of his pants.”

“He sure seemed to have plans when we went outside the camp.”

“Didn’t you ever notice they were all mostly the same? Shoot the Croats, not your teammates unless they’re infected, do what you’re told, and try not to get your sorry asses killed.” Which was pretty much their own plan when they left the house. He pulled on his shirt, then his socks. “Sure, there were little variables, but most of those plans he had came down to those things.”

Risa snorted. He’d noticed she was becoming more irritable by the day and had taken to pacing in whatever room she was in. Either that or moving things from one place to the next, organizing them over and over.

“Seriously, Risa. What do you expect from me here?” Bending, he retrieved his boots, then sat at a chair to put them on. “What am I supposed to do? You tell me what you want me to do here.”

“We’re going to run out of food and medicines.”

“So we go out and hunt for more.” The solution to that. She wanted a solution, right?

She visibly paled and crossed her arms. “Like it’s that easy.”

Anger flared up inside him. She knew very well what they had to do to survive. “It _is_ that easy.” 

“Bullshit it is.”

Boots on, he stood and snatched the truck keys off a nail on one of the shelving units. “Here, I’ll show you just how easy it is.”

He turned and headed for the stairs, avoiding Risa’s hands as she grabbed for him, shaking her off, taking the stairs two at a time. Behind him, he heard her scrambling to follow, her protests turning panicked.

“Cas stop! Please don’t go! Don’t leave!”

She followed him right out the door and into the afternoon sunlight and chill air, wearing only a t-shirt. No shoes, no pants, just a t-shirt. Risa clung to him, her body shivering from the cold and probably her panic, too. He couldn’t pry her fingers from his shirt. “Let go, Risa.”

“Don’t leave me!”

He got one hand loose but when he went to pry the other she just returned it to him. “Let go,” he yelled.

“Don’t go! I’ll do anything! I promise!” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I promise. Whatever you want me to do, just tell me and I’ll do it.” She was irrational in it, focusing on the leaving part and not the searching for supplies they needed part. “I’ll do it, just don’t go!” 

Cas stopped trying to pry her hands from him and grasped her arms. “Stop it, Risa! I’m not leaving.” He shook her. “Just…stop.”

Her eyes were wide and she gulped in breaths, her hands holding on to his shirt so tightly that her knuckles were white. Tears wet her face. “Please.”

It wasn’t the word that stopped him, but how she seemed to fold down in his hands, her shoulders bowing, body sagging in his grip. He let go of her arms only to grab her and lift her against him. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, still clinging, tighter than before. “It’s okay,” he told her, “I won’t go.”

Taking a few steps back, he leaned against the truck and held her while she sobbed and shuddered against him. He ended up carrying her into the house before she’d finally let go and stand on her own.

She was embarrassed later by her behavior, quiet and contemplative, curled up in a fetal position on the bed. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she whispered, still crying softly.

Castiel moved to the bed and sat, maneuvering her so that her head was on his lap. Then he picked up the book they’d been reading out loud and read to her while she sobbed.


	4. Chapter 4

Their relationship wasn’t healthy. Risa knew it and she was pretty sure Castiel knew it, too. Actually, they didn’t really have a relationship as such, merely a parasitic push and pull of their mutual needs, both needs magnified enough by the circumstances to be desperate.

He needed sex to help bury his pains. All of his behavior, from the drugs and alcohol, to the out-of-control sex was part of an elaborate coping method for the depression and self-hate he felt. Those things made him feel good, even for minutes, so he’d done them as much as possible to keep the good feelings going. 

__

Still did them.

Funny how she’d not realized it before, that why of his behavior.

No, not funny, she thought. She’d never really spent enough time with him before to think about why he did what he did. Now she was confronted with it every hour of every single day.

One hint that she might not comply with his wants and he became aggressive, angry. A hint that he might leave her there alone and she was the one aggressive and angry. During the days that passed, they went through many passive-aggressive cycles. Push, pull. Up, down.

What have we become, she thought. What are we on the way _to_ becoming?

They both knew it was happening and neither really cared as long as their needs were met. It was a selfish existence and not the partnership she’d had vague ideas of when they’d left the camp together. Risa couldn’t honestly say that much of what had happened between them was what she’d expected to happen, for it wasn’t. The sex, yes, but the unhealthy love-hate entanglement? The weepy clinginess she’d displayed recently? She’d turned into a woman she hardly recognized at all, a woman that wasn’t what she’d thought herself to be.

Risa’s pre-Apocalypse self would have been horrified to see her now, trading sex for Castiel’s promise of staying another day or two, manipulating him with tears and a few words designed to bring about guilt. She had a feeling that _his_ pre-Apocalypse self also would have been horrified by his behavior. He’d told her that he was far different before than what he was now.

Though her curiosity was high as to just what kind of man he’d been then, he refused to answer her, changing the subject. He claimed it wasn’t important, that he’d become something he’d never thought he’d become and there was no going back to what he’d been. Risa found that tiny word compelling. _What_. Not who he’d been, but rather what. He said the word like it meant something integral to him that was gone, a fundamental piece destroyed. Castiel didn’t give her the answers she wanted and her musings on what he’d meant by that wording never got anywhere at all.

__

What had he been?

Time passed, the days melting into each other until Risa couldn’t say just how many days had gone by. The weather grew colder, the sky bleak when she braved going outside. It rained a lot, the water icy, sometimes turning to sleet and hail. She’d listen to it and chew at her thumbnails, wanting the company of other people besides Castiel in the most desperate of ways. She’d dreamed of other people finding them so many times now that it was occasionally a surprise when she looked around and remembered it was only the two of them there. 

They both spent a lot of time sleeping, pressed together for warmth under layers of blankets, either on the bed or before the fire. 

One good thing was the generator. Castiel managed to get the generator working, however they only used it for short periods. They were both afraid the sound would draw Croats.

She selected a book from one of the many piled in Bobby Singer’s house. He’d had more than they could read now in a lifetime. It didn’t really matter what she picked. Reading out loud was merely a diversion to pass the time, like the card games, and other games they played with each other. Risa sighed and carried it downstairs and into the panic room. She settled down on the floor by the door and began to read, glancing every so often at Cas.

He was getting jittery, tapping his feet and fingers, squeezing his hands into fists, rubbing his hands up and down his thighs. His gaze had quit being so calm most days and she could tell his thoughts were running at a hundred miles a minute in his head.

Castiel’s easy calm was fading.

She wondered which drug he’d taken in the camp was the one he’d been addicted to. Or was it even that? Surely he would have displayed withdrawal symptoms earlier than this? Then again, he’d had plenty of various pills until recently. Maybe he’d just run out and that was why that calm was disappearing.

Maybe being inside constantly was wearing on him. She knew it did on her. There were times when she wanted to run outside and to hell with caution; where she craved sunlight on her skin, or the breeze. Even the frigid rain would be welcome.

She thought that being in the camp had been better in that they’d been able to get out of their cabins and walk around with little fear of attack. They’d been able to take a walk just because they wanted to and practice all those skills Dean had wanted them to have. Perhaps it would have been better to have stayed there after that disastrous mission. Perhaps they should have stayed and she should have followed him into his cabin, downed a few pills and laid down with him and the others, letting herself fall into death’s waiting arms while cradled in Castiel’s arms. He would have held her if she’d wanted him to and then it all would have been over.

Risa quit reading. This diversion wasn’t working. He wasn’t paying attention to the words and neither was she. Risa couldn’t remember what the pages even said. The tension in the air between them was thick, growing thicker in the silence that fell. That tension was going to have to break somehow.

He needed a break.

__

Risa needed a break. She needed some action from him to remove those thoughts from her head, at least temporarily.

Her glance strayed to the bed. The sheets were twisted, one of the blankets half on the floor.

She needed him to be her escape. Not pills, or booze. Him.

“Why’d you stop reading?” Castiel’s voice was gruffer than usual, with a sullen, hard edge to it. He leaned his head back against the wall behind him, exposing the column of his throat. While he’d let her trim his hair with scissors they’d found, he hadn’t shaved since they’d left the camp, that stubble he’d always had growing into a wild, unkempt beard. There was something dangerous about him, she decided. He looked ready to really snap this time.

In another time, she would have gotten the hell out of that room, slammed the door and locked it from the outside until that air of danger slipped away. Now though? She stayed right where she was.

“Are you okay,” she asked, with far less caution than she logically knew she should employ. Reckless. She was being reckless and she didn’t care as long as she could make this moment all about forgetting her own dark thoughts.

“Peachy.” He stared at her, head still tipped back. His brows rose. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’m living in a small room with very little in the way of food and amenities, waiting for the end of the world to come. I have few pills, no booze left, and a woman who chose me only because I was there. My life right now is _perfect_.”

Risa snorted. “There’s no need to be snarky about it.” She marked their place and set the book aside, knowing full well they were going to re-read to that point later and probably not pay attention to what it said then either.

His chuckle was amused and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. “Maybe being snarky is all I have left. I mean, you’re certainly not the ideal conversationalist these days.”

The words hurt, as they were intended to. They’d never run out of things to talk about, always managing to find one more thing they’d not discussed, but he was spoiling for a fight now, the glint of anticipation in his eyes. “I suppose you’d rather it was Dean here with you,” she retorted, drawing one knee up and resting an arm on it. They didn’t mention Dean much anymore, or the camp. He’d grown especially touchy on the subject of Dean.

“Sure.” He looked at her straight on. “Except I couldn’t screw Dean like I do you. Couldn’t give myself to him in the way I do to you.” Castiel shrugged. “He wasn’t interested. Turned me down. You want to hear about that, Risa?”

“No.” She didn’t want to hear a confirmation of what she’d come to suspect Dean had meant to him.

“You sure? You don’t want to know how I tried to give Dean all of me, every last bit -- emotional, physical -- and he slapped me down and shoved me away? He locked me out, wouldn’t let me close, kept me at arms length when I needed affection. It didn’t even have to have been physical. Just some affection. I would’ve taken anything and he didn’t give it. Maybe he couldn’t by then.” Bitterness made his voice harsher than it already had been. “Or how about that I loved him every way I possibly could even after that moment?”

“Stop,” she told him. “Don’t --”

“Come on. Don’t you want to understand? I know you’re curious. Everyone in that camp was curious about us and how we were connected. Why did I stay if I was so damn miserable and why did Dean even bother with me? Why, why, why? Why were we sometimes like brothers and other times like complete strangers? He hated what I’d become and I hated what he had. It was mutual. We ignored what we hated and held on to what we still liked about each other. We both ignored a helluva lot.”

“It’s not my business --”

“Yes, it is. It affects you. Let me tell you about how I did my best to stay alive because even though he didn’t love me the complete way I wanted, I still loved him and knew he needed me alive. That’s why I stayed and why he bothered. Dean needed me to live to remind him of everything that had happened and everything he should have done to stop it. He needed me to be a visual reminder that an angel even fell from heaven for him.”

Angels falling from heaven? Risa couldn’t follow that part of his words, couldn’t make them make sense. She knew Lucifer had fallen, but that was a very long time ago. What other angel was he talking about? What angel had fallen for Dean? Why was Castiel a reminder of that? She wasn’t understanding something she knew she should be able to and it frustrated her.

“He didn’t love me really, but he needed me regardless. I lived for Dean….” He licked his lips. “Now I live for you. That’s how it affects you, Risa. I should have been released when he died, but I transferred myself to you. I gave myself to you. It was a very human thing to do at that moment, I think. I’ve given you everything and you’ve taken it all, even what Dean refused. _Especially_ what Dean refused. How does that feel? You’ve taken and accepted what Dean never did.”

She swallowed hard, unable to look away from his eyes.

“I’m yours now, Risa, and in a way I was never Dean’s.” A noise left his throat, half sigh, half groan. “Being human hurts. It’s a painful thing to become. It’s a terrible state. I don’t recommend it. Emotional pain, physical pain…. It’s a bunch of pain that needs to be escaped.”

To become? What was he talking about? People didn’t become human, they were born that way. 

“I lost what I was because of a choice I made, a choice for Dean, and in the midst of dealing with what I became, the man who helped me through that and treated me almost like an extension of himself at times shut me out.” He moved into a crouch. “I expressed my depth of feeling in the only way I’d figured out how, with loving touch and a willingness to share all of me, even my body, and he rejected that. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

She could hear the tears building inside him by the thickness of his voice, but then he cleared his throat and shifted his weight on the balls of his feet, his focus shifting. A possessive light flickered in his eyes. His breaths were loud and almost labored.

“You gave me your body, Risa. I’ve given you that and everything else. I’m yours now and you….” He had a feral look about him, hair uncombed, beard unkempt. “You’re mine and I want what’s mine. Now.”

He was going to tackle her, wrestle her to the floor, and reaffirm that statement. Risa could see the intent in his eyes and in the way his body tensed, ready to push forward. “You don’t want to do this, Cas.”

“Yes, I do. And so do you.” 

“I don’t,” she denied, but even before the words left her lips, he was slowly shaking his head, his reply said in a silky tone that made her gut clench. 

“I know you now, Risa, like you know me. Did you think I didn’t know you were studying me all this time, trying to figure me out? I’ve done the same with you. You like it this way. Dark.” He moved slowly towards her. “Hard and fast. You can scream and fight and let out all those frustrations. It excites you. It’s what you need.”

“It’s what _you_ need.”

One brow shrugged. “Mutual needs fulfilled. Isn’t that what we’ve been doing all along? Filling our needs, accepting each other, _claiming_ each other…living for each other. Come here.”

“If I say no?”

“I’ll just come get you.” He licked his lips, a slow movement of his tongue, as though he was already anticipating the taste of her. “Come here,” he repeated.

Risa pushed herself to a standing position. She took a unhurried glance at the open door beside her, knowing it would goad him forward. “No,” she told him.

He launched forward, pinning her to the wall, his mouth ravaging hers. Her shirt was ripped open, the buttons popping off, tiny pings on the floor. It was just as dark and exciting as he’d said she desired until they heard the noises from outside the house. In a single second, all desire fled, replaced by genuine fear. Castiel drew back, gaze turning to the open door beside them. He stepped away from her slowly, head cocking and eyes narrowing as he listened, hand raising to wipe away the trickle of blood from his lower lip. Either she’d bitten him or the pressure of their mouths together in such a hard kiss had caused one of them to bleed. She wasn’t certain which. 

The noises outside weren’t careful, they were determined. Someone knew they were there and was trying to get in.

He reached for one gun and headed out the panic room and up the stairs. Risa tried to remember if the barricades on the doors were all in place and couldn’t. She tied her shirt tails together to close the ruined shirt and followed him with another gun.

She looked out of the peepholes they’d created and saw three people out there, two women and one boy, their clothes dirty and streaked with dark smears that could be blood or something less sinister. They didn’t say anything. No conversation or noises, only a focus on the door. They were relentless, kicking, pounding, ramming it with their bodies. Risa’s hands shook as she readied herself to shoot.

~~~~~~~~~~

His reaction to the Croats at their door was not what Castiel had expected. He’d expected panic, or maybe fear, but there was neither. He wanted to open the door and tear them apart with his bare hands. They were threatening what he had here and while it wasn’t a lot, it was his. It was his and he refused to let them take it away. “Get downstairs,” he whispered. “Get in the room and lock it.”

“No,” she backed from the door. “I’m staying with you.”

The barricade fell, the door opened, and Castiel’s vision went red as anger spilled forth from him.

He watched himself as though outside his body, saw himself shoot the three invaders and keep shooting until Risa stopped him.

“Cas…. They’re dead.”

“I have to make sure.”

“They’re not breathing anymore. They’re dead.”

He dragged the bodies outside the rest of the way. “Keep an eye on them,” he told her and stepped towards the side of the house.

“Where are you going?”

“To make sure they didn’t bring friends.” Quietly, he crept around the outside of the house. He saw nothing out of the ordinary, heard nothing, and though he waited, no more Croats came running at him.

They took care of the bodies, then returned to the house, fixing the door and the barricade.

He was tired the rest of the day, drained of energy. He couldn’t think straight and when they finally went to bed for the night, he made sure the panic room door was barred from the inside before sliding into the bed with Risa and finding solace and pleasure in her arms.

The attack was a sobering experience and he supposed they were lucky it had only been three of them.

Time marched on, their supplies dwindling away despite a careful rationing of everything. Sioux Falls ceased to yield the things they needed and Castiel wasn’t surprised by that. He’d hoped it’d sustain them for a very long time, but that wasn’t the case. It no longer had the food and medicines. Or if it did, they couldn’t find them.

There were choices at this juncture, logical ones. They could go further and further out in their searching, wasting precious fuel and chancing running out before making it back safely. Safety would be fleeting, as they’d have to simply keep moving further from home base every time until they wouldn’t be able to make it back at all. They could wander around like nomads, moving from one spot to the next, scrounging once more, putting their safety on the line every hour of every day. They’d waste fuel in futile searches and never know what safety was ever again.

Cas didn’t want to. He was done. Finished. Kaput. He felt empty now, an emptiness so complete that he didn’t even care anymore if Risa was there or not. His possessive streak over her had fled. It didn’t matter if she was his or he was hers. Nothing mattered. Sex held no appeal, nor did anything else. He’d lost all pleasure in anything and wondered if this was what Dean had felt. Was the emptiness inside him now the same sort that had consumed Dean? He knew he could go through the motions if he had to, but he didn’t want to. Even holding on for Risa wasn’t enough.

This existence was miserable and he wanted off this ride.

He watched the desperation grow in Risa’s eyes and on her face as she tried to tempt him into any sort of action and failed. She cried a lot now, sobs nearly constant. She was afraid and Castiel had no comfort left to give.

With a sigh, he looked around the panic room, gaze finding the last pill bottle remaining, the one he’d set aside just in case things ever got to this point. He wanted out. Now.

Maybe if they’d both had someone to follow things would have been different, but leading themselves? They were no Dean Winchester, singly or together.

Castiel reached for the pills.

~~~~~~~~~~

Risa heard the pills rattle in the bottle and turned in time to see Castiel pop open the top. “What are you doing?” It was the last bottle of pills he had, one he’d brought from the camp and the same pills he’d admitted giving to the people in his cabin.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” His voice was very calm and low, matter-of-fact.

Risa watched him shake out pills, count several out, and take them one by one before recapping the bottle. “Puke them up,” she told him. 

He sighed and shook his head. “No.”

“Yes. Do it.”

“No.”

“Cas, please.”

He tossed the bottle at her. She caught it in a reflexive movement. “Why should I? What’s left, Risa? We’re out of almost everything and what we’re not out, we nearly are. We’ve scrounged and scavenged the area and there’s nothing left. There’s not going to be anything anywhere.” He laid down on the bed, placing one arm behind his head. “The end has come. Let us go in peace.”

She knelt by the bed, touching his arm. “Please,” she whispered. “Don’t leave me alone. I’ll do --”

“What? You’ll do what? You’ve already done everything. Everything and anything I could ever want. It’s not enough anymore and it’s not your fault. Not your fault at all. I’m tired, Risa.” His hand raised, fingers sliding along her cheek in a soft caress. “There should be enough pills there for you. I’ll move over and make room.” He shifted on the bed. “A better way to go than starving to death, or the alternatives. Take them and join me. We’ll hold each other all the way out.”

She sat there holding the bottle, watching the flicker of pleasure on his face as his eyes closed and he stopped talking to her. The lines of strain on his face eased. Risa cried silent tears and opened the bottle, looking down into it. Maybe he was right. 

I can’t be alone, she thought. Please.

If she didn’t take the pills, she would be. She’d be all alone. He was leaving her.

She licked her lips, shook out several pills and took them with the last of the water in the glass he’d used. Her hands trembled as she set the glass and pill bottle down and laid beside him. She tried not to think about what she was doing, about what the action meant. It was just a couple pills. All she was doing was helping herself to fall asleep. 

Castiel made a noise in the back of his throat. Risa put her head on his chest and waited for the drug to pull her under.

The drowsiness started a short while later and Risa sighed, then frowned a little, raising her head a fraction.

She heard something outside and then there was a crash as one of the doors upstairs was forced open.

Croats. They’ve found us again. Shouldn’t take them long to come down here and find the door open.

The thought didn’t alarm her, not like it should have. Very soon, she wasn’t going to be feeling anything at all.

But the sounds next were careful noises: slow footsteps, the cocking of a gun -- of _several_ guns, and finally voices. Clear voices. It was the sound of the uninfected gradually clearing a location. It dawned on her in slow degrees. After all this time, help had arrived. Where had they been? Why hadn’t they come sooner?

She rolled from the bed, her body uncooperative, the dizziness and urge to sleep overwhelming her. Castiel mumbled something unintelligible behind her. Risa stumbled to the open door and through it, falling hard, trying to use the door to catch herself and failing. She crawled, fighting to stay awake.

I won’t die, she told herself. Not today.

At the foot of the stairs, she tried to make herself vomit and while she succeeded in nearly silent, soft choking sobs, it didn’t help the sleepiness. The drug was dragging her under.

No, please, no.

Risa forced herself halfway up the stairs and stopped, grabbing at the railing and missing, her body swaying. She licked her lips. “Help,” she tried to say, her lips mouthing the word and no sound coming out before she couldn’t fight unconsciousness any longer.

She didn’t feel herself fall down the stairs.

~~~~~~~~~~

Jo Harvelle swept through the upper part of the house with her team, moving carefully. They’d already dispatched two Croat nests today from Sioux Falls, another would be a record for one day. She hadn’t planned to search Bobby’s house, but with an obviously recently used truck out front and the sound of the generator running, she’d thought it prudent to look for survivors while they were there scrounging parts. The truck was locked and looked fairly clean on the inside. There was someone here somewhere and it was better they were cautious. They’d had run-ins before that were nearly disastrous.

While the house had that shut-in musty smell, there were other scents beneath it, of wood smoke, lamp oil, soap, and cooked food. There was evidence that people were there besides that. The living room was cleaned, blankets laid out before the fireplace, and drops of water still in the kitchen sink. She tried the faucet, water pouring from it with a twist of the tap. Someone was definitely living here. 

“Jo?”

“Yeah, Tom?”

“Upper levels are cleared. All that’s left is the basement. Got some noise from there a minute ago.”

She nodded. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

The basement light was on.

Stretched out at the bottom as though she’d fallen was a woman. Jo started down the stairs. The sour stench of vomit made Jo’s nose wrinkle. It smelled fresh. Bending, she and Tom checked the woman. 

“There’s a pulse,” he said. “Weak, but there. Dislocated shoulder. Looks like maybe her left wrist and forearm are both broken.”

“Okay. Put a doc on her, move her if you can.”

Jo moved to the open panic room door. The room was lit by one bulb and in a sweeping glance she noticed several things. There’d been an attempt at making the room comfortable and homey. Blankets, pillows, chairs, a rug laid on the floor. Jo noticed shelves with neat piles and stacks of things. There was a lone man on the bed. Jo stepped forward and raised her gun.

“You on the bed! Identify yourself!”

A weak groan answered her, the man rolling his head on the pillow to face her. His eyes remained closed. Despite the wild beard and loss of weight that had put hollows in his cheeks, she recognized him.

“Oh my God,” she whispered. “Castiel.”

She went to him, doing a quick check of his pulse, then turning her head. “Tom! I need another doc in here! Now!”

Castiel’s pulse was alarmingly slow, like the woman’s was, and Jo quickly located the bottle of pills beside an empty glass. She held it up, reading what the label said. If they’d both overdosed…. She pocketed it for the doctors to look at if Cas and unnamed woman lived to get back to the base and knelt by the bed, fingers touching Cas’s face in comforting sweeps she wasn’t even sure he could feel.

“Hang on, Cas. Just hang on, okay? Help’s here, sweetheart.”

She wondered if they could save him or if he was too far gone already. She hoped it was the former.


	5. Chapter 5

When Risa woke, she couldn’t believe she _was_ waking. Her left arm twinged with pain from her shoulder all the way down through her wrist and her entire body ached. She was in a hospital bed, about the last place she’d thought she’d be, an iv in her left arm.

A man came into her line of vision. He was in o.d. green fatigues, the way he carried himself indicative of high rank, his assessing gaze cool.

“Afternoon, Risa.”

“How do you know my name,” she asked in a whisper through a voice that felt raw.

He cocked his head, his reply ringing false due to his pause and the tone. “Your companion.”

“He’s okay?”

“I wouldn’t use that word to describe Castiel’s condition. Alive maybe, but certainly not ‘okay’.”

“How did I get here?” She felt groggy and very, very tired. She thought she remembered getting up and trying to alert people that they were in the basement, but she wasn’t sure she’d actually done that, that it hadn’t been a dream.

“One of my teams found the both of you and brought you to the base. What happened in that room, Risa?”

She had the oddest feeling that he already knew everything, right down to the darkest things she and Castiel had done together. “He couldn’t take it anymore, took some pills, and I did the same.”

“Deliberate.”

“Yes.”

“I see.” He seemed troubled by that, brows drawing together and a hint of guilt on his face. His hand stretched out towards her and Risa closed her eyes, falling down into sleep once more.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Welcome back.”

Cool fingers brushed against his brow and Castiel opened his eyes. It took a moment to focus, but when he did, a pretty woman’s face swam into view. Jo Harvelle. He and Dean had both thought she was dead. When she and Ellen had left after helping start the camp, Dean had expected them to come back within a few weeks and they never had. He raised a hand, the effort making him shake, and touched her face, thinking he must be hallucinating. “Jo?” Her skin was smooth, warm.

She smiled and grasped his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles before laying his hand back at his side. “Sure is. 

“I know I’m not bound for heaven and you likely are, so I must be…alive.” He almost groaned at that.

“I thought we’d lost you about five times on the way back to base.”

“I had a few pills.”

“Sweetheart, I’d say you had more than a few.”

“Where am I?” He rolled his head, squinting in the brightness of the room, trying to see. He was on one hospital bed of many in rows on both sides of the room. There was a tube running from a bag suspended on a hook above the bed to his left hand. The liquid was clear. 

“Fort Mitchell. It used to be called something else, but it was re-named after the man who took it back from the Croats: Jack Mitchell.”

“That really happened? Dean thought it was propaganda, an attempt to calm citizens.” He remembered the news of that victory a couple years earlier and the brief glimpse of hope in Dean’s eyes before he’d declared it had to be fake. To take back a whole military base? Impossible.

“Hell, yeah, it happened. Mom and I were there. It was pretty hairy for awhile, but they were trapped in the gates and all we had to do was flush them out and kill them before they could do the same to us.”

The rest of the beds were empty. “Where’s Risa?” His gut clenched as he asked the question.

“Risa?” Jo squeezed a cloth out in a basin and patted his face with it. The coolness felt good.

“The woman with me in the panic room.”

“You were the only one in the panic room. We found --”

“I didn’t make her up.”

Jo paused, setting the cloth aside and putting a hand on his chest. “No, no, that’s not what I meant. We found her at the bottom of the stairs. Looked like she tried to go up, fell, and was sick.”

“Sick.”

“Yeah. She’s in the ICU next door.”

He closed his eyes, tears prickling. “She only took the pills because I did. She didn’t want to.”

“It’s a precaution, Cas. She’s already been awake and talked to someone. She’ll be fine, we just think she needs a little more observation and care right now.”

“When can I see her?” Castiel kept his eyes closed. Inside him was a flicker of guilt for pressing Risa to take the pills, too. He shouldn’t have done it, shouldn’t have --

“Soon.” She touched his cheek. “Why don’t you sleep for a little longer while I go rustle you up some dinner?”

He felt a prickle and sting of a needle against his arm and let the drug she’d given him slide him down into sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ellen was at work. Jo’d poked her head in earlier to let her know she was back safely, but now was the time to give her the rundown of what had happened. It was a thing Jo did every time she came back.

By the time she got to one barstool, her mother had a beer waiting for her. Jo took a long, appreciative drink.

“Well? Rumor has it you found two survivors this run, male and female.”

“They almost weren’t survivors. They’d taken a bunch of pills and it was touch and go on both of them all the way back.” She crossed her arms on the wood top of the makeshift bar. “Mom, one of them was Castiel.”

Jo knew very well Ellen had had feelings for Cas, so she tried to tell her the news gently. The romance between her mother and Castiel hadn’t been one she’d expected and while it had gone well for awhile, things had changed as his ‘woe is me’ attitude had grown. He hadn’t been able to handle becoming human, not the way they’d all hoped. It had been because of him that Ellen had refused to return to the camp at all. She’d been too affected by his moods to stay and deal with them, unable to watch as he willfully destroyed himself with little to no thought of those who cared about him. Ellen Harvelle was strong in many ways, but at the time, that hadn’t been one of them.

Surprise, then shock, and finally a mix of concern, fear, and sadness crept across her face, the sadness staying in her eyes. “He took an overdose?”

“Yeah,” she confirmed. Risa had told Jack that.

Ellen sighed and bowed her head, shaking it several times before looking up again. “Saw that coming three years ago.” She rested her hands on the edge of the bar and leaned on them. “Self-controlled with the pills he wasn’t. Popped ‘em like candy.”

“Well, he popped a whole handful according to the woman with him and she did it because he did. Was too afraid of being alone not to.”

“Sort of understandable in this world we have now. Not the first time you’ve found that.”

“No, but the first time we saved both people.”

Ellen looked around the empty bar. It wouldn’t pick up until after dinner. Jo saw two servers playing cards in one booth. “He’s okay though? I mean, he’s not….” She shrugged. “I need to know he’s okay.”

“Aside from whatever emotional issues he’s having these days, yes, he’s okay. He won’t be feeling too hot for a few days from everything we had to do to keep him alive, but yeah, he’s okay. Jack wants him off any drugs ASAP. He’s awake or will be again soon.”

“Oh.” She reached for a cloth and began wiping down the bar. “I can’t get away to see him right now. Maybe later.”

Jo didn’t argue. She could see the old wounds Cas had caused reopening right in front of her eyes. While she was glad they’d found him and that he was alive, his reappearance caused some problems. Ellen would see him only when she was ready to face the past and not a moment earlier.

She finished her beer and got up. “Okay. I need to get Cas some dinner, then I’m meeting Jack _for_ dinner.”

She went to the kitchen and turned in her request, thinking about the past and the present. Had Castiel even been aware of how deeply Ellen had felt for him? Jo’d never gotten a sense that he had. The only other time Jo had seen her mother so torn up inside had been when Jo’s dad had died. Jo’d done her best to patch Ellen up, but two emotional holes of that magnitude changed a person. Ellen had never quite recovered the second time. Castiel had hurt her and Jo didn’t think he even knew it.

She’d had mixed feelings about taking a team to Bobby’s, but it had been necessary. They’d needed parts and she’d known the auto salvage had them. Bobby’d had a little bit of everything in there. She’d almost _expected_ to find someone holed up in the house and for it to have been Castiel shocked her.

When they’d gone to aid Dean in that trap that had been set, she’d thought then that Cas might be there. She’d looked at every body they’d pulled out, wondering if the reason he wasn’t there was because he was already dead, for he would have followed Dean anywhere.

Jo remembered that clearly, the blind devotion he’d developed and how Dean hadn’t seemed to notice the obsessive depth of Cas’s feelings. Restrained Castiel wasn’t. Ellen was very right on that. When he felt, it was to extremes and he took his coping methods to the extreme as well, copying Dean’s methods with disastrous results.

Did Cas know that Dean had turned away their offerings of an alliance? Jack had sent a small team every few months to approach Dean about banding together and each time Dean had refused. Maybe if Jo or Ellen had gone with the teams he might have considered it, but Jack hadn’t wanted them to be in the way in case Dean shot first and asked questions later. Jo wondered about those offers and why Jack Mitchell kept tabs on Dean. She supposed it made sense to keep an eye on a civilian army and try to gain them as allies. Still, sometimes she thought he was regretful about something that had happened between him and Dean even though he swore up and down that they hadn’t met.

She didn’t believe him on that. Jack knew too much about Dean and discovering Dean’s body had made him actually _mourn_ , a thing she’d never seen him do in three years. He’d known Dean. Somehow. Jo didn’t know how or when, just that his reaction was awfully emotional for the death of someone he claimed not to have met.

Dean’s death had hit her hard. The world seemed worse without him. She recalled sitting beside his body while a funeral pyre was being readied, thinking about all they’d been through over the years. She’d remembered thinking how gorgeous he was when he’d walked into the Roadhouse and then thinking about how dangerous he could be. She’d recalled jobs they’d done together and their friendship that had always been just one step away from something more. While he’d seen her, he hadn’t _seen_ her, and she’d been unwilling to compromise on what she wanted from a man. Even in the end, she wanted more than to be simply another woman.

She’d once told him she wasn’t a bar slut he could pick up, bang in the backseat of his car, and leave the next day. His reply had been flippant, something about getting a room and being too scared of Ellen to leave her. Her point had been taken, however. She wasn’t going to let him treat her like the other women and if he couldn’t handle that, he should stop propositioning her. He’d stopped trying to get her into bed.

He’d also tried to stop them from leaving, but Ellen had been determined. She couldn’t watch anyone do a downward spiral, least of all someone she’d come to love. They’d ignored Dean’s dire predictions and set out, two women against the world.

Meeting up with Jack and his men not long after that had been a God-send. Without him and his resources, Jo believed they really would have died per Dean’s predictions.

She took the tray that was set down before her back to the medical ward, finding Jack waiting there, staring through the one way glass at Castiel. His hands were in his pockets, brow pulled down in a pensive frown.

“You talked to him yet?”

He drew in a breath and looked at her. For a second, his gaze was distant, as though he’d been a million miles away, but then it cleared and he shook his head. “Not yet. I’ve been thinking about what the woman Risa told me.”

“What? That he took an overdose?” She set the tray down. “I’m not surprised.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise you?” His gaze was intense, searching, and Jo shrugged beneath the weight of it. After two and half years with him, she’d gotten used to his stares.

“That’s just how he is. He copes with his pain using pills, booze, and women, usually too much of all of them. It’s probably not the first time he’s taken too many pills. He was on the verge of that when mom and I left Dean’s camp. I’m actually a little surprised he made it this far.” 

He seemed shocked and surprised by her words, running slow hand through his blond hair. Strange to have that reaction from a man who’d witnessed so much in his life. Why such care over one man and not the others they’d found?

“Jack…. Do you _know_ Castiel?” If he did, then his reaction made sense.

He turned away. “I don’t think I do. Go talk to him. See if you can’t get something from him.”

She lifted the tray again. “Open the door for me?” Jo took the tray to Castiel and braced herself for whatever was going to come next. Somehow, she doubted that the next few days were going to be easy for any of them.

~~~~~~~~~~

While he’d slept for awhile, it hadn’t been a deep sort of sleep. Castiel felt restless this time and yet strangely calm as well. He felt…different. That hole inside him that he remembered feeling didn’t seem as terrible at present. It seemed smaller, manageable. An odd thing. Perhaps there was some drug mixed in the iv line. 

He laid in the bed and wondered if someone was watching him through that mirror on the wall and what they were thinking as they watched him.

The door opened, Jo approaching. She looked tired, her smile warm. 

“You’ve got a visitor waiting,” Jo said, setting the tray in her hands down and rolling the table close.

“Ellen?” Castiel raised the head of the bed so he was sitting instead of lying down.

“No, mom’s still at work. She couldn’t get away, but she’ll stop by after her shift if she can. It’s Mitchell that’s outside. Jack Mitchell.”

He shoved the table back without lifting the lids to see what food she’d brought him. She caught it and rolled it most of the way back. “What’s he want?” The last thing he wanted to do was have a chat with him.

“To see you.” She lifted the lid off the main plate.

“I don’t want to see him. I want to see Risa and Ellen and you. That’s it. No one else.”

Jo waited, brows raising as she held the lid high.

He sighed, looking at the plate, smelling something he hadn’t had in over a year. “Is that a hamburger?”

“One hundred percent dead cow. Not standard anymore, but I have some pull with the mess.” 

“And fries?”

She shrugged. “I remembered you liked burgers and fries and figured it’s probably been awhile since you’d had them.”

Stretching out his arm, he dragged the table back to him and reached for the burger. It looked wonderful. He took a long sniff, surprised by the pleasure he received from the smell of it. His mouth began to water. “I still don’t want to see your esteemed ‘leader’.” The first bite was excellent and he groaned as he chewed. “This is really good,” he mumbled around the mouthful.

“Glad you like it.” With a laugh, she set the lid aside. “You know, it’s not like you have a choice not to see him.”

“There’s always a choice, Jo.” Transferring the burger to one hand, he lifted one small lid and found ketchup for the fries. It was hard not to dig into the meal as though he hadn’t eaten a full meal in weeks, which of course was the truth. He and Risa had been rationing food to keep from having to leave Bobby’s house.

“No, not this time. It’s his base, after all.”

“I want to finish this first.” After a few more bites, he looked over at her. “Risa getting a meal like this, too?”

“Hers is a bit more standard sickroom fare until we’re sure she can keep it down. She’s not displaying obvious symptoms of a concussion, but she does have a big old goose egg on her head, along with a broken wrist and forearm. Her shoulder had been dislocated in the fall, too. She’s a mess, Cas, but she’s doing okay so far.”

“Good.” He accepted the news with relief.

“You were both dehydrated and are malnourished, according to the doctors. It’s treatable. All of it.”

As he ate, trying not to take big bites or cram the food into his mouth, he asked her about Mitchell. “What’s he like?”

“Like any man the world considers great: a reluctant hero for the times. He got a battlefield promotion because everyone else died and his crazy plans worked. Not just with the Croats either, but with all of the weird shit coming at us.” 

“How’d you meet the guy?” He finished the burger and lifted the last lid. Beneath it was a slab of chocolate cake. Not just any cake, but a fancy one that had layers of frosting in the center. He chewed a few fries and wondered why the food was so good here -- or at least what he’d had so far. Dean and others had always told him that military food was terrible.

“We were at the same fight. Mom and I and a few others were in a town trying to take it back and he came along with his units. We did the job and he invited us to join up as civilian aid.”

“Uh-huh.”

“He has no problem utilizing whatever resources he has, Cas. We’ve a few civilian teams here that go out in the immediate area with minimum back-up and a few that are further reaching that take a team of soldiers and medics -- like my team. We search for survivors, bring them back. There’s a quarantine procedure, but you and Risa got a pass. By the time we got back here, the time the virus takes to turn a person had long since passed.” She sat in one chair. “I’ve known him for about three years, since almost directly after mom and I left the camp.”

He paused in eating and stared at her. There was a sparkle in her eyes and the way she talked about him…. “You’re sleeping with him,” he pronounced in a sure tone.

“Sleeping? No. He doesn’t sleep much, at least not when we’re together.” A faint blush colored her cheeks.

“Let me rephrase it then. You have carnal knowledge of each other on a day-to-day basis.”

“That’d work to describe it.”

“Then your opinion of him as great means nothing. You’re infatuated with him, Jo. It’s messing with your objectivity.”

“Not true. It’s not only _my_ opinion and I’m not infatuated. We have a relationship, Cas. It’s not all sex.”

He tried one bite of the cake, then pushed the table away and wiped his mouth with the napkin. “Why is he so great?”

“Because he’s the only one in mainstream population making any headway against Lucifer.”

“What about Dean?”

“What about him?” Jo shook her head. “Dean may have done some good here and there, but he had a hard-on for the Colt. It was his main objective. Everything else was periphery.”

“He saved a lot of people, Jo.”

“Maybe. But Dean’s dead, Cas. He died from a broken neck over five months ago.”

He went very still. “How did you know that?” Had it really been five months? Had he and Risa been in Bobby’s house that long alone together?

Her gaze was sad. “We found him, my team and I. We’d gotten wind of a trap being set for someone, but by the time we got there to help, it’d been sprung and Dean was dead. Him, a few others. We were a day too late. I made sure he got a hunter’s send-off.”

Castiel leaned his head back, not bothering to try to stem the tears that fell, the food he’d eaten heavy in his stomach. “I couldn’t protect him. He faced Lucifer alone.” He left out past Dean. At this point, he wasn’t entirely sure he hadn’t hallucinated that part, he and Risa both.

“Wait…you were _there_?” Incredulity colored her voice.

“Risa and I. We were in the building.” He glanced at her, then back at the water-stained ceiling. “He let us go, Lucifer did, and like complete _idiots_ we led him straight back to the camp.” He licked his lips and avoided looking at her again. If he didn’t look at her, he wouldn’t have to see the disappointment and disgust in her eyes when he admitted the rest to her. “We abandoned them. Just…lied to get supplies and headed out, saving our own asses. Didn’t even tell them he was coming. Not that it would have done any good if we had. He was right behind us by not fifteen, twenty minutes. Maybe a half hour at most. They never had a fighting chance.”

“Oh, Cas….”

“What kind of man does that make me, Jo?”

“A frightened one.”

“That’s not even the worst. There were people in my cabin and I gave each of them some pills, enough to make them sleep and not wake up.” He took a shuddering breath that immediately became a sob. “I killed them and told myself it was the best thing for them.”

She touched his hand, but he jerked it away. “Okay. Okay.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her nod and stand, picking up the tray. “I’ll be back later.”

Castiel rolled onto his side away from her and turned his face away, pressing it into the pillow. He heard her leave; heard the murmur of voices outside; the sound of a door slamming and footsteps going down stairs. The clock on the wall ticked by the minutes. Finally, the door opened and he heard someone crossing the room to him. The hairs on his arms and the back of his neck raised. The person with him had a _presence_ , a feeling of power.

“You mope too much, Castiel. Always have.”

He blinked and rolled back over, turning his head to look at the man with him. He wasn’t a man and had never been one. Even being mostly human, Castiel recognized him.

Gabriel.


	6. Chapter 6

“He’s not the Castiel I remember.” Jo set the tray down and turned to look through the one-way glass.

“He’s been through a lot. I doubt you’re the same woman he remembers either.” Jack slipped his hands in his pockets. “You look troubled.”

“He pulled a Jim Jones on some of those people at the camp, Jack. Slipped them pills before he and Risa left. They didn’t tell them Lucifer was coming.”

“Probably wouldn’t have done any good anyway. You know that.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that he did it.”

“Would you have done it different?”

She crossed her arms. “I don’t know. Dean was dead, that still fresh in his head, an emotional trauma, he knew he’d led Lucifer there and was likely feeling guilty for that too….” She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe he saved them from pain and horror.”

“Maybe? You and I both know what Lucifer is capable of.”

It had been a surprise to her to discover he was just as knowledgeable as she and Ellen on the weirdness in the world. Even more actually. He’d filled in some details on a few things for her. They’d had more than a couple talks on creatures, beings, and angels in the three years she’d known him. They’d talked about Lucifer before. At first, she’d thought he was a former hunter or had grown up with hunters. His knowledge was deeper though. He really knew his stuff. He probably could have given Bobby a run for his money in the area of arcane knowledge. “I do.”

“He reveled in those deaths, toyed with some of them, drew it out for maximum pain on all levels just for fun.”

He sounded more bitter by it than she’d thought he would. “Jack --”

“Seems unbelievable that Lucifer was once the brightest and most beautiful of the angels in all ways. He’s become so twisted.” He sighed and seemed to shake himself from that mood. “I’ll go in in a few minutes and have a talk with our former angel.”

Former angel? Jo frowned. She didn’t recall saying anything to him about Cas having once been an angel.

“We still having dinner,” he asked.

“Of course. After a day like this, I need to relax with you.”

With a glance around the still empty hallway, he stretched out an arm, encircled her waist with it and drew her close, giving her a long kiss that promised a fun night once they were alone. “Give me a couple hours here. I’ll meet you at the house.”

“I’ll be there.” She left, thinking she might take a long, hot shower and put on something pretty to boost her mood. Jack had recently given her a few lacy, racy pieces of lingerie. One of those would work and he’d like it, too.

~~~~~~~~~~

Cas snorted as Gabriel stepped right up to the bedside. “Gabriel.”

“What?” He motioned at Cas. “You thought you were the only one Michael cut off when he threw his last big tantrum and closed off heaven? _Please_. I spent weeks knocking on that door trying to talk sense into him and anyone else who’d answer. All I got for my troubles was to be told I could just stay on earth with humans since I obviously love them so much. Lucifer’s response wasn’t much different. After that, I became pro-active. It was easy to insert myself into the military. Figured I had a better chance with them than signing up with Dean -- who would have gone for my sword the first chance he got.” He made a face. “That sounded vaguely dirty. True, but dirty.”

“ _You’re_ Mitchell?”

“Of course. Like a human could have accomplished what I have.”

“Dean was right. The taking back of the base? Impossible for humans, but not for you.”

“Not for me,” he agreed.

“You’d be the reason the food I just had was good.”

“I’ll go without many things, but a good meal and divine desserts? No compromise. Good food is essential, Castiel. Surely you’ve realized that by now?”

He glanced at the door, mind running at a million miles a minute trying to figure out Gabriel’s relationship with Jo. Nothing of what she’d said indicated she knew the truth. “Does Jo know who you really are?”

“No. And it stays that way, Castiel. I’ve got a good, fun, and mutually satisfying thing going with her. Don’t blow it for me. I actually did it the hard way with her. Wooed her and everything. Do you have any idea how long it took to get in her pants? And to convince her to let me go bareback? So worth it, though. She’s a wild woman in bed.”

“Do I care?”

“Ooh, you’ve got an attitude now.” He wiggled his fingers at Castiel. 

Cas narrowed his eyes. “Do you still have your powers?”

“No one can cut off an archangel but God himself and we know he’s not doing anything. If Mike could have stopped the flow to me, he would have. That’s just how pissed he was with me.” He pulled up the chair Jo had vacated and sat. “So you’ve done some things that are very human in nature. Hate to break it to you, bro, but you’re ninety-nine percent human now. When the grace goes ‘poof!’, so does everything angelic, including nature. You’ve got that old sinful human nature now, guiding you along. And what a guide it’s been. Drugs, orgies. You’re a regular party animal.”

“I despise being human, Gabriel. Physically weak, an emotional wreck --”

“You’ve been human for what? Closing in on four years now?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes.”

“Mmm.” Gabriel leaned forward. “Then isn’t it about time you put your big girl panties back on and got back to work?”

There was a hard gleam in Gabriel’s eyes. Cas was familiar with the expression and didn’t much care for his use of it.

“Dean may have coddled you in the whole ‘woe is poor me, I’m a lowly human now’ routine, but I won’t.” 

Coddled him? He started to protest that Dean had been a friend to him and stopped. Maybe he _had_ coddled him along the way, ignored behaviors he should have confronted.

“Powers and grace or no, we’re still brothers under it all. You’re a soldier, Castiel, or have you forgotten that? Angel or human, it’s what you are. A soldier, and I still outrank you. I’m a commanding officer -- your commanding officer.” His voice became harder with each word.

“You don’t command the army of heaven, Gabriel, Michael does that, and I haven’t been a soldier in a very long time now.”

Gabriel snorted. “A long time in human years. In angelic time it’s a blink. Whatever my rank in relation to Michael, it’s still higher than you’ve ever been.”

“I’m not an angel anymore! I’m useless! Don’t you get that?” Shouting made his throat hurt. He did it anyway. “I’m a useless human, Gabriel!”

“Suck it up and get over it.” He pointed at the window at the end of the room. “You look out there and you’ll see a bunch of humans that you’re _still_ more than. If you’re useless, then what are they? Take a good look at them, Castiel. They’re fighting. Look at Jo. She’s fighting. That woman never stops.” He sat back. “But not you. You’re going to let the dicks upstairs determine whether or not you’re going to fight for something. They took away your powers and you stopped fighting. You stopped thinking about anything but how much pain you were in.”

“Stop!”

“Boo-hoo, I’m a poor human. Boo-hoo, I’m powerless. Wah, I can’t do anything anymore and it sucks. It does suck and there’s nothing you can do about it, is there? You are what you are now and that’s just how it is.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “I want to see Risa,” he said, aware that his voice sounded petulant and childish and not caring.

“Of course you do. After all, she nearly died trying to alert Jo’s team that you were both down there.”

“She --”

“She nearly died. Didn’t Jo tell you that? Let me enlighten you as to what happened. Risa heard them, heard them talking, realized they were potential help, but when she tried to go upstairs, she was too weak or too drugged, one of the two. She fell, hit her head, puked. Or maybe she puked before she went upstairs. Doesn’t really matter. She was a breath from death regardless when one of the team docs started working on her.” He shook his head. “An overdose, Castiel? Really?”

He opened his eyes to glare at Gabriel. “It was either that or starve to death. I determined that sleeping and not waking up again was infinitely better than wasting away in slow agony.”

Gabriel stared at him.

“You don’t understand.”

“Hell I don’t. I lived as a human down here long before you fell.”

“You kept your powers. You’ve never had to deal with that loss.”

“Sure I kept them…and didn’t use them for awhile thinking they were looking for me. Thought it might alert them to where I was. It took a good long while to realize no one cared I’d left except maybe Michael and a few others and a random flare of power on the earth could easily be attributed to one of the pagan demi-gods. So don’t tell me I don’t understand what you’re going through. There’s very little I haven’t experienced. Despair, gluttony, lust…. To tell you the truth, wallowing in your guilt and shame is useless, especially now.”

“I’d think the end of all is a perfect time for it.”

Gabriel watched him a moment longer, then nodded. “Okay, Castiel, we’ll do this your way. For awhile anyway.” He stood. “As soon as Risa checks out as stable enough with the docs, I’ll have her moved over here with you. Should only be a couple hours, though it could be tomorrow morning by the time they’re ready to move her.”

“Can’t you just snap your fingers and make her well?”

“Not after half the base already saw her in that condition. You think I _want_ someone defecting to Lucifer’s camp to tattle on me and bringing him back here? I really don’t want to have big brother showing up. Which reminds me -- you two are _so_ not going anywhere outside this fort on my watch.”

“It was a stupid mistake.”

“And one I won’t let you make again. Enjoy your convalescence, Castiel. You’re going to be back on your feet in no time.”

He resisted an entirely childish urge to throw the nearest thing at him and lowered the bed back to a prone position, staring at the ceiling. It would be futile to attempt to figure out why Gabriel hadn’t shown himself before now, so he didn’t even try. When Jo came back, he was glad for the company, but like his talk with Gabriel, theirs degenerated quickly into something less than genial.

~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner was bland. Risa understood the reason for that and ate it slowly, hoping she wouldn’t be sick from it so she could have something with some flavor next time. As she finished, a woman came through the door. She was in casual clothes, her hair loose about her shoulders.

“Hi Risa. I’m Ellen,” she said as she pulled up a chair and sat. “My daughter’s team found you.”

“Hi. Thank her for me?”

“Thank her yourself. I’m sure she’ll be in to see you.”

Risa took a last bite and shoved the wheeled table to the side out of the way. Ellen studied her with a curious gaze and Risa shifted a little in the bed under the weight of that stare. “What?”

“How long were you at Dean’s camp? I assume that’s where you met Cas.”

“You knew Dean?”

“Sure. Boy was like a son to me. I knew him.”

“You know Castiel then?”

There was a flicker of emotion in Ellen’s eyes. Sadness, regret, and more that made Risa cautious. Castiel had meant something to this woman. “I know him,” she confirmed. “The camp? How long?”

“A year and a half to when Cas and I went to Bobby Singer’s house, so…almost two years ago?”

“Mmm. How long have you and Cas been together then?”

Risa looked away. “No, um…we weren’t…together. Not until the house, when it was just us left.”

“I see.” Ellen nodded. “Okay. I’ll let you rest some more. I’m sure you need some good sleep.”

She reached out a hand to Ellen before she could get up. “Could you see if my chart is here somewhere before you go?”

“Has no one talked to you yet?”

“That’s not it. They told me about my arm and the malnutrition and dehydration.”

“But you’re worried about something else?” Ellen stood and looked around the bed and at the table.

“I’m…. Yeah. I’m worried about something else.”

“I don’t see it. I can poke my head out, snag the nearest nurse?” She raised a hand, jerking a thumb at the door.

“Would you please? I really want to know.”

She started across the room. “Know?”

Risa took a deep breath. “If I’m pregnant.” She blew that breath back out. Until she’d said it, it had only been a vague wondering. As she spoke the words, it hit her that it was a real possibility. After all, birth control hadn’t exactly been a priority. Food, yes. Medicine, yes. Birth control, not so much, and they’d had a lot of sex during those months.

“Do you think you are?” Pausing by the door, Ellen reached her hand up to the file tray on the wall and removed a file folder.

“It’s a definite possibility.”

She opened the folder, perused the contents as she walked back to the bed. “You’ve missed a period?”

Leaning her head back on the pillow, she tried to remember. If they’d been there five months and she only remembered three periods, didn’t that mean she probably was? “More than one. Two.”

“It doesn’t say they did a test, but I’m not seeing any actual test results here, just admitting notes. Keep in mind, it could be stress and malnutrition messed with your cycle, too. It’s been known to happen.” She handed Risa the folder. “I’ll go grab a nurse and ask. See if we can’t give you peace of mind on that.” She was back in a few minutes, carrying another folder. “Here you go.”

Risa opened the envelope and drew out the pages inside. If she was reading them correctly, not only _wasn’t_ she pregnant, she was fairly healthy and free of diseases. “I’m not pregnant,” she whispered, relief flooding her body. “Oh.”

“Were you hoping to be?”

“Kids in this world? No. I couldn’t do that.” And yet she’d risked it repeatedly. What’s wrong with me that I’d do that, she asked herself.

Ellen sat back down. “Five months. I take it you and Cas get along well?”

“Sort of.” When they weren’t playing dark games with each other.

She arched a brow. “You were having sex with him, sweetie. Unless it wasn’t consensual, I think you get along with him pretty well.”

Risa slid the papers back in the folder and ignored the comment.

“You have feelings for him.” It wasn’t a question.

She laid the folder on the table with her dinner tray, trying for nonchalance in her reply and knowing she failed. “How is he? The man that was here earlier only said he was alive. Is he okay?”

“I haven’t seen him yet, but I hear he’ll be fine, just like you will.”

“Good.” Risa felt her shoulders relax, tension falling away. “Good.” She nodded, suddenly feeling very tired. “I’m tired.”

“Get some sleep.” Ellen left.

Risa closed her eyes and tried not to think about the consequences she was going to find when she and Castiel were once more face to face. A lot had passed between them that couldn’t be ignored. They were going to have to deal with all of it.

~~~~~~~~~~

He hadn’t meant to get into a verbal fight with Jo. It just sort of happened.

“Wait, you think that because I was here on base I had it easier than you and Dean?” She shook her head. “You are dead wrong on that, Cas. It’s every bit as hard, maybe harder. It’s still a military base, with those rules and regulations, no matter how differently Jack runs things.” She rested her arms on the bedside and crossed them. “While his superiors let him do pretty much anything because he’s successful, he has rules to follow. Civilians on base live like his troops, with those same rules. We may have our own little corner because it’s too dangerous to have an outside settlement, but we’re all together behind these gates, a lot like what Dean tried to do. We all follow the rules and there are lots of rules for our safety.”

“Looks to me like your life is still normal, Jo. You go to your job, then come back, have a hot, nutritious meal, go for a beer, joke with friends, then spend the night with your… _boyfriend_ before starting it all over the next day.” It surprised him that Gabriel was cultivating a long-term romance with any woman, especially when he could create one with a snap of his fingers.

“That’s not my life, Cas. Sorry to disappoint you. I get that life maybe a couple times a month. I spend more time in one of these beds and in quarantine than most of the civvies and half the soldiers do.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Cas, I’ve been shot twice, stabbed, had three broken ribs, a broken pelvic bone and a dislocated ankle. I’ve gotten through a burst appendix, pneumonia…. Need I go on? I’ve had a lot of crap happen in three years.”

“Join the club.”

“I’m a card carrying member of that club and long before you joined up, sweetheart.”

How was it Jo hadn’t grown bitter and dispirited? How was she still so much of the person she’d been? He didn’t understand. With everything she’d mentioned, he would have thought it’d discourage her, yet from what he could see, she was still determined to do her job.

The fight continued, and he made the unwise decision to bring up Ellen and Jo leaving the camp. He’d meant to ask why they’d never bothered to come back and let them know they were alive and never got that far.

“Do you really not know the reason we left? Are you _that_ self-absorbed that you don’t understand what you meant to my mother?”

He opened his mouth to reply that, but Jo continued.

“We left because she couldn’t stand watching someone she loved tear himself apart like you were doing. The hardest thing I’ve had to do is try to put her back together and keep her together, Cas! She was depressed, moody…. It was like my dad dying all over again. You got into her heart, got her to feel something, and then you _hurt_ her so completely that she --”

“That’s enough Jo,” a quiet voice intruded. It was Ellen, standing in the doorway watching them. “Please. Enough.”

“No, it’s not enough.” Standing, Jo leaned over him and put her mouth right beside his ear, grasping his arm. Her fingers dug in, hurting, making him wince from that pressure. Her voice was low, the words only for him. “You hurt her again and you’ll have me to deal with. Do you hear me, Castiel? I won’t forgive you for it a second time, not like I know she’s here to forgive you.” The fervor of that promise was a searing heat in her eyes when she drew back. “Understood?”

“Yes.” He fully believed she would do some damage to him.

She released him and didn’t say another word, pausing at the door to give Ellen a long look before shaking her head and brushing past her. Ellen closed the door and came to halfway across the room before stopping. She crossed her arms.

“You look good, Ellen.” She looked tired, like Jo did, but well.

“Don’t do that,” she told him with a shake of her head. “Don’t flatter me, Cas.”

“I can’t observe a truth,” he asked in a careful tone, wanting things to be good between them yet very afraid they weren’t going to be. She’d been the first woman in his human life and he hadn’t treated her the way he should have.

“Not today. No flattery, just…honesty.”

He plucked at the sheet across his lap. “Okay. If I can’t say that I think you look good, what can I say?”

“How about that you’re sorry for what happened back then? Or are you too nestled down in your cocoon of emotional pain to admit you hurt me and others?” She shrugged. “Maybe a sorry for exposing me to STD’s and not telling me? I had to overhear that argument between you and Dean to learn you’d started sleeping around on me. Imagine how good that made me feel, Cas. Imagine watching someone you love destroy himself and being powerless to stop it.”

He dropped his gaze from hers. A image of Dean popped into his head and he clasped his hands together in his lap. “You’re right. I was wrong to treat you that way and I’m sorry I didn’t treat you the way I should have.”

“Thank you.” She sighed and took a couple steps closer. “I hope you understand that woman in the next room is every bit as attached to you as I was.”

“You mean Risa?”

“Was there another woman there with you?”

“You don’t understand about me and Risa. For those months --”

“I’ve got a pretty good idea what two people can do to each other when traumatized and feeling trapped. I’ve seen the aftermath of that scenario too many times now to count. Whatever things you did to and with her that shame and embarrass you now? Get over it, because you’re both alive and have the consequences of that to deal with.”

“You don’t --”

“If you say I don’t understand, I’ll slap you upside the head and give you another for good measure. That woman is just as vulnerable and aching inside as you are and she’s going to need you. I’ve seen her, Cas. She’s got her emotions for you all over her face when she asks about you. I suggest you stop the pity-party already and think of someone besides yourself.”

He stared at her. “Did you just call me selfish?”

Her brows rose. “Would you prefer self-absorbed or narcissistic instead? I think selfish fits the best.”

He almost laughed at the notion he was any of those. “How am I selfish, Ellen?”

“You want the full list or the abridged notes?”

“Tell me.”

“In a nutshell? What kind of life were you leading, Cas? Wine, women, and song? Is that hedonistic pursuit not selfish? You were making yourself feel better, but what about all those people around you?”

“It was the mutual exchange of pleasure.”

“Bullshit. You’re a scared little boy running headfirst to anything that can keep you from having to face yourself and the truth of who you are now. It’ll be interesting to see how you treat Risa the next couple months.” She looked down at the floor and back up. “I’m making a choice here, Castiel. I want you to understand that. I’m forgiving you for back then. It’s the past, it happened, and it can’t be changed, but right now, I don’t know how to feel about you here. I came to see you myself, make sure you were okay, but I don’t want to see you again, at least, not for awhile. So don’t look for me when you’re released from this building. Don’t walk outside and come find me. When I’m ready to see you, I’ll find _you._ ”

“Ellen.” A lump stuck in his throat and he couldn’t seem to swallow past it.

“No.” She shook his head. “I have to do what’s right for myself and that means not seeing you, at least not yet. Might be a long time, might not be, I don’t know. I know we’ll probably bump into each other, but when we do…you don’t know me, okay?” Her words were half sobbed.

“I can’t do that Ellen. I _do_ know you.”

“If you ever felt anything real for me, then please. Do this for me.”

Looking at her, he could see the pain on her face and in the way she was holding herself. It made him cringe. Three years later, she was still hurting from him. He’d always thought her so strong and he was the one that had done this to her. He swallowed hard. Ellen Harvelle had been laid low, not by a demon or other evil creature, but by the decisions he’d made in an attempt to bury the pain of becoming human. Why hadn’t he seen it before now? Had he really been just as selfish as she claimed? “I’m sorry.”

“So am I.” She uncrossed her arms, gave a last almost helpless shrug and left.

Castiel was alone with his thoughts then, and the shame and guilt of past and present matters. He didn’t even have any pills to dull the pain. All he could do was feel.


	7. Chapter 7

When Ellen didn’t show up for their weekly mother-daughter breakfast and morning together, Jo knew her mother’s chat with Castiel hadn’t gone well. She headed over to Ellen’s house, all the way across the area marked for civilians from her own tiny house. She knocked on the door and went inside. “Mom? Are you here?”

“I’m in here, Jo.”

“Are you sick?” She stepped down the short hall and into her mother’s bedroom.

“Sick at heart, maybe.” Ellen was still in bed, her demeanor dejected and eyes swollen and red rimmed from tears. “No, I’m not sick.”

“What’s going on?” Jo sat on the bedside. “Talk to me.”

She sighed. “It’s this thing with Castiel.”

“Did he --” Before she could get angry, Ellen shook her head.

“No, no, he didn’t say anything. No need to get all upset. I did most of the talking. Told him I didn’t want to see him around, but that I do forgive him for back then. He didn’t understand, almost like back then when he’d look so scared and lost. You remember that look he had, right? The hurt and confusion in those pretty blue eyes of his…. How can he not understand, Jo?” Tears welled up in her eyes and she wiped them away with a shrug. “I lied to him. Not wanting to see him was a lie, because I do still want to see him. I very much want to see him. Even after everything, I want to go in there, hold him, and tell him it’s all going to be okay.”

Reaching out, Jo pulled her mother into a hug. “I know.”

After a few minutes, Ellen pulled back and shook her head. “What is it about him that does this to me? Reduces me to this? I’m a Harvelle, damn it! I’m not supposed to….” She slumped against the pillows. “I’m stronger than this. Thought I was anyway. One look at him and I’m tearing up again.”

“You didn’t have to go see him yesterday.”

“I know. It was either that or risk falling apart when I saw him on the street or in the bar. Commissary, mess hall…. I thought I’d rather see him on my own terms first.” She slid down a little, tugging the covers up higher. “You met Risa yet?”

“I looked in, but she was sleeping.”

“I went and saw her first. I had to meet her, you know? See what the woman he spent five months alone with was like. I didn’t want to like her. I wanted to walk in there and hate her, but I can’t. She’s so scared, Jo. Even now she’s scared.”

“I don’t blame her. I think I’d be scared too. Having seen the aftermath before of those situations, coming out alive from one would be just as frightening as being caught in one to begin with. Geez, think of all the potential consequences to face.” She raised a finger with each one she listed. “The deep, dark secrets a person shares about himself when he thinks there’s nothing left to live for. The ugly behavior displayed to the other person because of that same thought. ‘What use is there of societal behavioral norms when it’s all ending’ and shit like that. The possible physical consequences for a woman, like pregnancy. Not to mention if cabin fever set in. Extreme cases of that turn ugly. They got through crappy situation after crappy situation only to live when they both thought they were dying. I think terrified is probably a better word for it.”

“She not pregnant.”

“One less thing to be worried and scared over.” She shifted position. “She’s got to be scared to see him again, too, wondering what he’s going to think of her now that they’re in a safer place. Torn maybe? Between liking him and hating him?”

Ellen shook her head. “She doesn’t hate him. I think if she doesn’t love him already, the potential is there.”

“Yeah?”

“I think so.” She crossed her arms. “I know I can’t go back. I can’t do that dance again, but I think…. I think I’ll feel better about him if I know he’s got someone to love him and take care of him. Does that make sense, Jo? Do you know what I mean?”

She thought she did. Ellen could stop worrying about him like she was if she knew there was someone else to worry, that it didn’t have to be her. She could let him go and maybe, finally, begin to heal completely. “Yeah, I think I do.” She smoothed the quilt Ellen used as a bedspread. “So, are you up to getting out of here for awhile? Getting some practice at the range maybe? Shooting things cheers you up, especially when you can beat the pants off of that hunk of doctor Nathan.”

If Ellen had been a bit more over Castiel, Nathan might have made a move on her. He was about her age, and sweet, but he’d quickly gotten the hint that Ellen didn’t want a romance. They’d settled into a friendship largely based on her ability to beat him at any competition that had to do with guns, cards, or darts.

“Thought he was working today.”

“Not until later. He told me to tell you he’d be at the range about nine.” Jo looked at her watch. “If we hurry, we can meet him there.”

Ellen reached out her hand and touched Jo’s cheek. “Have I mentioned lately what a good daughter you are to me and how much I love you?”

“Doesn’t need to be said. I love you, too.”

“Okay, daughter. Get out of my bedroom so I can get dressed.”

“You want me to fix you some toast or something?”

“Something quick.” She tossed the covers aside and sat up. “I can’t let my record of beating Nathan every week slip, can I?”

“I’ll be outside.”

Jo planned to see Risa in the afternoon and see if what her mother said was right. She hoped it was. It’d be nice if it could all work out well until the end of all finally swallowed them up into nothingness. 

~~~~~~~~~~

In the morning, Risa was transferred into the ward Castiel was in. She’d had the time to think about those months and now found that she felt out of sorts around him. It was a slight consolation that he kept watching her with the same wary gaze she knew she directed his way.

Risa slid further down in the bed and turned her face away from Castiel, shame for what she’d done with him and allowed him to do rushing over her. All those things they’d done to and with each other….

“Risa.”

She squeezed her eyes shut.

“Risa, look at me. Please.”

“I don’t want to,” she whispered.

“Why not?”

Opening her eyes, she _did_ look at him. “Because I don’t like the woman I became in that house with you. We _hurt_ each other, Cas! Physically, emotionally. We should have been banding together and supporting each other and we hurt each other instead.” She was mortified by that now.

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you? Are you sorry about any of what happened between us?”

Slowly, he got out of bed and came to her side, careful of the tubes that connected to monitors on both of them, and the cords on the floor. Taking her hand in his, he rubbed his thumb across the back. “While I’m sorry it got the way it did, I can’t regret how well we know each other now. I can’t regret that deep bond between us, the physical and emotional bond.” He glanced back at the mirror and leaned forward a little, his voice lowering. “I’d never told anyone about what happened with Dean, but I told _you_. Like it or not, we’re connected.”

The trouble was, Risa did like it still. She wanted to hate him for the past five months and she didn’t. He’d become a part of her. She wondered if that knowledge would tear her apart again in the end. She hoped it wouldn’t. “How are you,” she asked tentatively, squeezing his fingers a little with hers. He reciprocated that squeeze.

“You mean physically?”

“Sure.”

“My stomach, chest, and throat hurt. How I am emotionally is another matter.”

“Tell me about it. I’m feeling a little rocky myself.”

He sat by her hip. “Gabriel won’t let me have anything except Tylenol and not even the good kind with codeine. That stuff I could rock, but apparently I have addictive tendencies and he wants me stone cold sober, which…hurts. It’s hard facing things without a buffer. I don’t much like what I see.”

Addictive tendencies was right. Whoever had diagnosed that had him figured out. “Who’s Gabriel?” She’d thought the doctor that was treating them was named Nathan.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” He glanced away and back. “Jack Mitchell is what he’s calling himself these days. The Mitchell that took the base back? You remember hearing about that? It’s this base, here. His real name is Gabriel.”

“You know him already?”

His snort of laughter was husky. “We were close like family once.”

She struggled to sit up better, and pulled her hand from his, groaning a little with frustration when she couldn’t find the button to raise the head of the bed more.

“Let me get that.” Leaning over, he found it for her and pressed the button. “That good?”

“Thanks.”

Castiel nodded and sat back.

“How far back do you know him?”

“You could say we were raised together.”

“In the same neighborhood?” She was fishing now, eager to learn something more of a past he’d never told her about. He might have admitted feelings for Dean, and action on those feelings, but his past had remained verboten. Besides, she was glad to avoid talking about those five months. She wasn’t ready to actively look at them.

“That’d work to describe it.”

“It’d work or _was_ it?”

Castiel sighed, briefly glanced at the mirror on the wall, and said, “There were a lot of us, Risa. Brothers and sisters. A family once. Gabriel ran away and much later, I left as well. We both defected the ranks because of what we saw happening and I was punished for my disobedience.”

She thought about that, the way he’d said it, the sort of language he’d used. “Were you raised in a cult?”

“A cult?” His brows rose. A second later, amusement crossed his face. “A cult?”

“Yeah. You know. A _cult_. A compound in the middle of nowhere, lots of rules that don’t make sense, an order of blind obedience and devotion with the threat of punishment or banishment for non-compliance?”

He did laugh then. “A cult. Hmm. I think I’ll take that definition for the moment.”

“What do you mean you’ll take the definition?” He was neither confirming or denying, yet Risa knew she’d hit upon some truth. What part she wasn’t sure. “It does fit with what you said. Cults are notorious for all of that. Invoking a feeling of family, getting members to call each other things like brother and sister. Doing and teaching things that are questionable. Your choice of words says a lot, Cas.”

He sobered. “Not necessarily. I could have chosen those words in an attempt to convey my feelings on that situation, not to accurately describe it.”

“No, no.” She shook her head. “You meant it.”

“Trust me, Risa,” he stood, “it’s not nearly as cut and dried as a cult upbringing.”

“Then clarify for me.”

“Not today. It’s another part of what I should face, but I’m not up to it yet.”

Neither of them, it seemed, was up to facing much of anything today. The friendly moment passed, an awkward silence descending and Risa cleared her throat. He hugged himself, that wary feel to his stare returning. Risa could hear the seconds ticking by on the clock on the wall.

“Now that we’ve discussed me…. How are _you_ feeling?” He stepped back to his own bed and sat on the edge.

“I’m not pregnant,” she blurted out, then felt her face flush.

“Oh.” His gaze turned to her stomach. “Were you worried?”

“Weren’t you? We did sort of stop using protection altogether. I did miss two periods in a row. It was a possibility.”

“I hadn’t thought about it,” he admitted with a tiny frown, attention still on her stomach. “Huh. A possibility.” 

Risa had the sudden odd feeling that he hadn’t actually connected sex with pregnancy until right this second. Odd. Very much so because he was a grown man and should have known that. Surely at least one of the women at the camp had had a pregnancy scare with him? She blinked, trying to shove away that sensation of weirdness and failing.

His gaze returned to hers. “Does your arm hurt?”

“Not much. They gave me a shot before bringing me over here and I think maybe my iv has something mixed in it, too.”

“How are you emotionally?”

She licked her lips. “Could we wait awhile to discuss that? I’d rather wait until there’s not a chance of someone overhearing us. Privacy.”

“I agree, actually. We’ll wait.” He sounded relieved.

The conversation drifted from topic to topic, none of them inflammatory, for at the slightest hint of unease, a topic was dropped. In the afternoon, the woman Jo came to visit. She was a pretty blond woman and the appreciative way Castiel studied her curves as she approached them made Risa want to smack him upside the head. He was hardly being subtle.

“Afternoon. Glad to see you both awake.” She stepped between their beds and leaned over Cas, giving him a long hug. He slid his hand slowly up her back and down it. 

Risa pursed her lips, feeling a slight pang of jealousy inside her at the ease with which Jo gave that hug.

Jo pulled back. “I was a bit of a bitch yesterday. I’m sorry for that. I brought you something as sort of an apology.” Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out an iPod and earbuds. “I know it gets boring in here pretty fast. Play nice and share it, okay? There’s a set of mini speakers for it out at the nurse’s station. They’ll bring them in if you want. There are some videos, movies, podcasts, audiobooks and a ton of music on it.”

He took it, turned it on and began scrolling. “Thank you.”

“Mind listening to something for a few minutes? I’d like to chat with Risa awhile without you listening in.”

“I could still listen in and you’d never know.”

“As loud as I remember you liking to listen to music on one of those? Sweetheart, we should be able to hear it loud enough to sing along. Pick out something and get listening.”

“You’ve gotten bossier.”

“You like it when I’m bossy.”

“I do, actually. You’re just like your mother.”

They both sobered at that, Castiel turning quickly to the iPod and Jo coming to Risa’s bed. “You look a hundred times better than you did sprawled at the bottom of the stairs passed out.”

“I should hope so. I was hardly at my best right then. I’m healing, I guess.”

“You’ll probably be in here another few days.”

The chat was one of those basic getting to know you things. She decided that Jo was feeling her out for some reason. Probably because of Castiel. Geez, even now it was like he knew all the women and none of the men, though he _had_ admitted to already knowing Gabriel, AKA Jack Mitchell. It had been that way at the camp, too. He’d known every woman by name and something about her, but ask about most of the men and he didn’t have a clue. Some he had, of course, due to his extra-curricular activities, but for the most part, it was the women he’d known.

Periodically, Jo would stop talking, listen at the silence from Castiel’s bed, and make the ‘I’m watching you’ gesture at him, two fingers in a ‘v’ pointed first at her eyes then him. He’d frown, all innocence, and point to the earbuds and mouth ‘I can’t hear you’, before turning the sound back up. It was a bit of comedy that lightened Risa’s mood. She was surprised that she really enjoyed talking to Jo and looked forward to her next visit. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Castiel woke to the familiar sound of Risa whimpering. She was having a nightmare. He’d heard the noises many times and this one sounded like a doozy. Tossing aside the covers on his bed, he got up and went to her, glad their beds were fairly close together. Like he had that morning, he maneuvered around the equipment.

Slowly, he eased onto the bed with her, sweeping one hand along her uninjured arm in calming passes. “Shhh…. I’m here, Risa.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “You’re safe now. I’m here.” He continued the words and gentle, soft touch until her whimpers eased, but didn’t get up.

Being beside her in a small bed was comforting for him and he relaxed in slow degrees, letting sleep pull him back down.

The next time he woke, it was lighter in the room and Risa was awake.

“Nightmare,” she asked.

“You were having one.”

“I don’t remember it.”

“Probably a good thing.” He caressed her face with his fingertips. She looked especially vulnerable in the mornings, her gaze sleepy, and guard definitely down. Castiel liked waking with her as much as he liked sleeping with her -- in both connotations of the phrase ‘sleeping with’.

“Probably,” she agreed. “You didn’t pull out any iv or anything joining me, did you?”

“Nope. Yours was a little tricky to work around, but, uh, I managed. Obviously.”

She brought her hand up to his cheek. “You need to shave.”

“Don’t feel like it. Besides, I don’t think they’ll trust me with scissors or a razor anytime soon after that comment I made earlier about pills.”

It had been a comment he hadn’t really thought about making. He’d said if there were pills right there, he’d take a handful. It was the truth. He’d take any pills if he thought they might dull his pains. What he hadn’t meant was that he’d take another deliberate overdose. He hadn’t said it as proof of intent to harm himself, but that was exactly how it had been taken. He was now on suicide watch, which amused him a little because right now, he didn’t mind being alive and human. He felt the best he had about where he was than he had in a very long time.

“Not one of your smartest moments,” she agreed.

“Ready for another day yet, or sleep awhile longer?”

“Sleep a little longer. Have you noticed that already sleeping feels different here?”

“I did.” Sleep was restful now. Without the need to keep a vigilant eye on things, which they’d still had to do despite the panic room, sleep gave well-needed rest to the body and mind. He settled down with her and slept awhile longer.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Jo was getting curious.

Gabriel supposed it was about time. He’d been less careful around her in recent days, thinking she could handle the truth about him if she did put the pieces together. After all, it was really only one little thing. He was still everything she’d come to know -- except he wasn’t human and his name wasn’t Jack Mitchell. He thought Jo was capable of seeing the big picture and accepting it. After all, she’d been friends with Castiel and known what he was. It was a little step into knowing her lover was an angel, too. She was a strong woman. She could accept it.

He clasped his hands behind his head and put his feet on his desk, crossing his ankles.

It was too bad that Dean had declined his offers of an alliance. He thought that together they could have stopped this tantrum of Lucifer’s. It occurred to him that he should have taken that tactic from the beginning. If he’d offered to help instead of pushing for Dean to accept Michael, perhaps Dean might be alive today. Perhaps things might have been different all the way around.

He recalled the last time he and Dean had met face to face, when he’d revealed who and what he was. He’d taken Dean, put him in a safe environment, and thoroughly failed to convince him to accept Michael. In exasperation for his stubbornness, Gabriel had revealed himself, explained his point of view, and again failed to convince Dean. It hadn’t been too many months after that that Michael had recalled the angels and closed off heaven in a snit, leaving both Gabriel and Castiel on earth.

Michael’s last words to him had been, “You’ve made your bed and so did Castiel. Lie in it.”

Gabriel snorted. What a dick Michael was these days. It hadn’t always been that way. Once, like Lucifer, he’d been beautiful, but again, like Lucifer, events had shaped him into something less than lovely.

And then there was poor Castiel, also shaped by events and quite a few none of his own making.

He’d messed up big time with him. Gabriel could see it now. He’d shirked his brotherly duties, let them fall on Dean Winchester with terrible results. All the while he’d thought Dean was taking care of Castiel, he hadn’t been. He should have looked in on Castiel, not assumed he was okay. He’d thought Dean would treat Cas as one of his own, as family. It had certainly seemed like he would. Instead, he’d let Cas cope on his own. Perhaps Dean had had a reason for that and perhaps not. Perhaps Dean had been too entrenched in his own pains to deal with someone else’s pain. What had happened was done and now Gabriel had to put Castiel back together, which was easier said than done.

He could keep him off the drugs and alcohol. That was easy. It was the emotional problems, the root of his pain, that would be the hard part. Castiel was messed up, far from healthy. Actually, despite the dark aspects, his relationship with Risa was the healthiest he’d had since the beginning with Ellen. Not saying much, really. Still, he was revealing pieces of himself to Risa that he hadn’t to others, like his feelings for Dean and the result of revealing those feelings.

Gabriel thought long and hard on Castiel and how he could reach him. His brother needed him, whether Cas realized it or not.

He’d bring him into his house, give him a warm welcome, make him feel at home. He’d nurture that spark he saw between Risa and Castiel. Human relationships could heal and there was potential there for them to heal parts of each other. In time, he thought Risa could be the final healing balm that smoothed the last aches of becoming human.

But first…. First, Castiel had to face it, a thing he’d yet to actually do. For four years, he’d been mourning the past, wallowing in grief and pain of loss. He had to face it to move on. He’d gone so far down that there was nowhere left to go but up.

Gabriel intended on helping him up. He’d lost the rest of his brothers and sisters. He didn’t want to lose Castiel as well.


	8. Chapter 8

Jo strode through the building to Jack’s office, wondered briefly where his secretary was, or any office worker for that matter, and went inside his office. Even at lunch hour, there should have been someone around and there were no people that she saw. Strange, but not enough to deter her. Maybe they were in a meeting and as far as she knew, Jack was out running with the troops, which gave her plenty of time to look over those weapons he kept on his wall, trophies of battles he’d won. She had a suspicion about him, one that had been slowly developing, and wanted some proof before she confronted him.

She stood in front of the long wall, gaze searching for the one item that was out of place. A sword. It wasn’t long, but it wasn’t short enough to be a knife exactly. Finding it, she reached up and took it from it’s hooks.

“Put that back.”

Jo nearly dropped it when his voice came from behind her. She turned, heart pounding hard in her chest.

“Return it to the wall,” he ordered in a sharp tone that brooked no disobedience.

She ignored that tone and raised it, studied it carefully. “I’d already guessed you weren’t entirely human, but I almost missed the biggest clue to what you actually are.”

“And that is?”

“This.” She hefted the sword in her hands, then set it aside on his desk. “It’s an angel’s sword. They’re distinctive in look, but only someone who’s seen one would know what it was. I’ve only seen one other.”

“Really.”

“Castiel’s.”

“I’m sure you’re not the only woman he’s shown his sword to.”

Jo rolled her eyes at the crude innuendo. “His angel sword. He was putting it away at the time, wrapping it up and shoving it in a trunk to be forgotten. My point is, you have one. You’re an angel.”

“How do you know that I didn’t take it from an angel after I’d killed him?”

“You didn’t. I mean, if you had, you’d tell that story too, like you do all of the others. I’ve heard about each of these weapons except this one. If you’d bested an angel, you’d be bragging about it, but you’re not, which leads me to conclude you don’t want anyone noticing it. You’re an angel.”

“You think you’re so smart.”

“I know I am. Still, I might not have put it together yet if we hadn’t found Cas and if you hadn’t known he was once an angel without me having told you. I never mentioned that to you, so how did you know?” She shook her head. “But if that’s true…I can’t figure out why you’re still here. Cas said all the angels left. If that was true, you’d be gone.”

He pursed his lips, narrowed his eyes, then snapped his fingers. The sword was back on the wall and he was right in front of her, body brushing hers, pressing her back to the wall. “Do you want the full-on ‘angel of the Lord’ display, with shorted out lights, wind, shaking of the earth, and wings, or would a simple ‘ooh, you’re good’ suffice?”

“I don’t need the display.” She looked down at the floor, biting her lip.

“Sure about that? I’m awesome at display. It’s something of a specialty of mine. I can put together something flashy in a snap, change this room around to something more impressive, really give you something awe inspiring.”

“I’m sure and I’m guessing you’re name isn’t really Jack or Mitchell.”

“Right again. Beauty and brains. Three of three, Jo. One more correct guess gets you a bonus round.”

She looked back up at him. Her heart was pounding fast and hard in her chest. “Was there ever a Jack Mitchell?”

“I created the persona. The name probably existed on someone at some time, but not the man I created.”

“I’m also going to go out on a limb and say that you’re of a higher rank than Castiel was.”

“Ding. Ding.” His brows rose. “Ding. Very good. How’d you reach that conclusion?”

“You apparently still have your powers. Heaven was able to kill the switch to Cas, but…not to you? If that’s true, it makes you among the highest of angels.”

“Which are?”

“Archangels. I know you’re not Michael or Lucifer and from what Dean and Cas both said about Raphael, you’re not him either, which leaves….” She raised her brows, beginning to feel very weird about her relationship with him. “Gabriel.” She swallowed hard. “Gabriel the prankster, the trickster, the one who….”

“You can say it, Jo. Spit it out.”

“You trapped Dean in an attempt to get him to say yes to Michael and let him go. Why did you let him go?”

“Because Dean was beyond me then. You have to understand that I’d been watching Dean for a long time. I’d learned how to get him alone, what strings to pull to get him to act. I snatched him up when he was alone, made a nice, safe cocoon around us, and revealed myself to him for who I am, tried to explain it was really the only option left. Even seeing where things were heading, he wasn’t going to say yes until it was too late. I could have kept him there longer, but at the time, Dean was still sure he could change things. I released him, set him back down from almost the point I’d removed him from and let him get back to his stubborn way. I was right, wasn’t I? He waited too long and I couldn’t convince Michael to heed that cry for help. I tried and failed while Dean’s cries still rang in the heavens.”

“You really are Gabriel.”

“Sure am, toots.” He touched her face with one hand, his fingers gentle, sliding down her body until he reached her hip. He cupped it with his hand, squeezing just a little. “You’re not going to get all weird about us now, are you?”

“I don’t know.” Raising her hands, she rested them on his biceps. “If what Castiel said about your power level is correct, you could have snapped your fingers and I’d do anything and you didn’t. Why?”

“If I wanted mindless adoration, I can create women for that. Don’t get me wrong, it’s always nice to be adored. Sometimes, though, I like to have real human interaction. Keeps me current.”

“Why me?”

“Why not you? I like you, Jo. You’re smart and feisty, one of my favorite combinations in women.”

“Oh. What about your vessel? Does he have a family somewhere?”

“Not in centuries.”

She drew in a slow breath. “Why are you still here? I mean, if Michael commanded all the angels home, why didn’t you go with the rest of them?”

“Because I pissed off Michael and he slammed the door in my face when I went up to have a little chat about matters down here. Mike and Luci are sort of matched in their tempers. I saw Luci too, by the way. He laughed and told me to stay out of it. The fight was between him and Michael and if I got in the way, he’d kill me along with the rest of the humans.” He snorted. “He called me human, Jo. Threatened to kill me because he’s pissed with Michael and Daddy. Lucifer and Michael, both throwing tantrums because they’re not getting what they want, willing to throw any of us under a bus. It’s ridiculous. They both hate humans, yet they’ve both been behaving on very human levels for centuries.” He stepped away from her, releasing her from his embrace. “I’d rather be here, even with the world as bad as Lucifer has made it.”

“If Michael slammed the door in your face….” She crossed her arms. “That means you can’t go home anymore than Cas can.”

“Nope. I am stuck here, too.”

“He’s all the family you have left.”

Jack… _Gabriel_ nodded. “You’re right. He is.”

Jo thought about it a long moment. He had to be feeling regretful, sad, maybe even angry at Michael and Lucifer both. How did he feel about Castiel? The way he’d said ‘he is’ spoke volumes. Cas was family. Maybe not close family, but still family, and Gabriel loved his family. She leaned back against the wall. Castiel was sort of like family to her, too. “So, what are we going to do to make him better? Assuming, of course, that it’s possible.”

Her question appeared to have thrown him. It was the first time she’d ever seen a slight hint of vulnerability in him. From the moment she’d met him, he’d had an abundance confidence, never showing weakness. He showed a glimpse now, a bare ripple of it across his face. “It’s possible,” Gabriel assured her. “It just won’t be easy.” He came back to her, hands grasping her arms, chafing up and down them. “Weirdness all gone?”

Not really, but she’d brazen it out for a couple days. What was there to be weird about, came her inner sarcastic voice. He was an angel and not just any angel, but an archangel. Nothing weird about having a full adult relationship with one that included adult nighttime, one-on-one recreation.

“You don’t have to brazen it out, Jo.”

Putting her hands on his chest, she pushed him back a little. “Did you just read my mind?”

“Slightly.”

“Don’t do that. It’s unfair. It’s like cheating if you can hear my thoughts. I can hardly read yours.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist about it. I don’t do it all the time.”

“You don’t do it to everyone all the time or me all the time?”

“To you. I only do it when I’m insanely curious as to what you’re thinking. Half the time it’s not what I’d thought you’d be thinking. As much as I can do and know about you, you’re still a mystery to me sometimes. A luscious, sexy mystery.”

Jo relaxed and slid her hands down to his waist. “So what do I call you? Switching back and forth all the time in public and private between Jack and Gabriel is going to get old fast.”

Lifting a hand from her arm, he snapped his fingers. “All done. From Jack Mitchell, to Gabriel Jack Mitchell, who is only called Gabriel by friends and family.”

“You took care of that in a snap?”

“It’s not difficult, Jo.”

“Too bad the snap thing won’t take care of the Apocalypse.”

He nodded. “Believe me, if it would have, I so would have done it already.”

They spent the lunch hour discussing how to handle Castiel and Risa both, forming a general plan that had potential to work well. Jo agreed with him that Risa could be a key piece in Cas’s healing progress. Every time she went to see them, there seemed to be more there between the two, a sense that they’d been deep in a fascinating discussion that her arrival had interrupted.

She liked Risa. For everything that had happened, Jo thought Risa was handling the aftermath rather well, though she supposed time would tell if she honestly was.

~~~~~~~~~~

Gabriel claimed Castiel as family when he was released, giving him a bedroom in his house. No one questioned the decision, or the one for Risa to live in Jo’s house. If they had, Gabriel had likely made them forget, like he made them all forget that Jo rarely actually slept at her own house. Risa was going to have the run of Jo’s house, since Jo only kept a change of clothes there.

The first few nights, Castiel slept all the way through each night without waking. He suspected Gabriel was making him sleep and decided that wasn’t entirely a bad thing, because he wasn’t remembering dreaming. He hated remembering his dreams. Risa seemed to think he didn’t have nightmares often, but he did. His largely centered around Dean these days, where he’d relive every second of that humiliating refusal. Sometimes he dreamed that Lucifer had caught them leaving and tortured them and other times, he dreamed that he was infected and would wake thinking he could feel the virus slipping through his veins.

He wondered when Gabriel was going to say something to him about Dean. Gabriel knew everything, had plucked it all from his mind in seconds. Cas knew he had, so why wasn’t Gabriel confronting him about all of it?

The actual days were spent in slow tours of the base and ignoring all suggestions that he and Risa join the support groups for people who’d been in similar situations to theirs. The groups were varied, addressing the individual issues mostly. There were groups just for women, just for men, and for men and women together, and a group that dealt with the overall issue of being trapped or shut-in with others. Not surprising to him, the group that dealt with the darkest aspects, the emotional and physical repercussions of such situations, was the smallest, with only a few members. There was even a group dedicated to helping people with who they’d been and who they’d become. There was something for everyone.

He looked at all of the literature Gabriel had left for him, reading each pamphlet because Gabriel had asked him too. It seemed there were support groups for every possible thing that could happen, except for the angel to human angle, of course. Still, it did make him feel slightly better, mostly because it indicated he wasn’t alone on many things.

Logically, he’d known he wasn’t, but this was a direct confirmation of that. The groups were there if he needed them.

Castiel didn’t think he did.

He noticed Risa didn’t appear interested in joining any of them either, though she did read through the pamphlets with him.

They spent the days together, walking or talking about things other than their shared five months, avoiding the topic they both knew needed addressing. It was easier not to, to pretend it hadn’t happened. Cas knew the avoidance wouldn’t last, at least for Risa. She was always the one wanting to talk about things. He, however, had become quite the king of avoidance. He could probably avoid discussing any of it for…at least three or four years. That was his record on the underlying issues.

He liked the woman Risa was here. She wasn’t the way she’d been at the camp, nor was she how she’d been at the house. Here, she was halfway between the two and he liked to imagine that this was how she’d been before the Apocalypse had begun. She didn’t talk about her past any more than he talked about his, which was okay. They weren’t those people anymore. Well, he wasn’t the angel he’d been and she wasn’t the human.

Did that matter if they talked about that? Honestly, did their pre-Apocalypse selves have anything to do with who they were today?

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Why do you have a house if you live with Jack Mitchell?” Risa thought the obvious question deserved an answer.

Jo shrugged. “Appearances. The illusion of correct behavior. As far as his superiors are concerned, I’m as pure as driven snow and waiting for marriage to get freaky. Not the case of course, but I can play the good little chaste girlfriend when I have to.”

“ _Will_ there be a marriage?”

Amusement slid across her features. “I sincerely doubt it. He’s not what you’d call a… _conventional_ guy.”

“I guess he’d have to be different to do all he’s done here and out there.”

“Different is one word to describe him,” was Jo’s still amused, dry reply. She motioned to the bedroom. “Feel free to use the bed. If for some reason I need to stay here, I’ll just sleep on the couch. The hot water heater thumps about two in the morning, so if it sounds like someone is trying to break in about then, it’s probably that. If it annoys you too much, I’ll have someone come fix it. I haven’t already for the obvious reason.”

Risa sat on the couch. “Does the tv work at all?”

“There’s a base station that runs base programming. News, weather, things like that. Occasionally, there’ll be a talent show or something and they’ll broadcast that. It’s not spectacular, but it’s something, right? The DVD player is hooked up. You can get movies from the central library once we’ve gotten you an id. Have you seen the library yet?”

“Yeah. Cas and I went there yesterday.” They’d spent three hours wandering the stacks, looking at everything from fictions of various genres to history and other subjects.

“Good, good. Have you thought about any of those pamphlets?”

“I looked at them.” She was considering going to one of the support groups, the one that tried to help with the emotional and physical consequences. There weren’t a lot of members and she thought she could handle talking about things in a small group. She’d met with the counselor in charge of it once already, stopping in her office while Cas was still being held on suicide watch. They’d talked only a few minutes, but Risa felt at ease with her. “Maybe I’ll go to one.”

“I think it’d be a good idea. Even if you don’t say anything while you’re there.”

They talked for a little while longer and when Jo left, Risa stretched out on the couch and watched some of the base tv station programming. Jo was right, it was basic stuff. Still, it was something she could stare at and feel like there was a tiny bit of normal back in her life.

~~~~~~~~~~

Castiel woke with a sense that the day was already different somehow from the previous days. He was restless, taking a quick shower before dressing. Going downstairs, he found Jo and Gabriel finishing breakfast. Jo was still in Gabriel’s robe, drinking coffee at the table, her empty plate at her elbow.

“Morning, Cas.”

“Does Ellen know you stay here?”

“Sweetheart, I’m thirty. Not like she has a say where I sleep at night anymore.”

“Oh.” He pulled out a chair and sat, accepting the cup of coffee, Gabriel poured for him.

Sitting himself, Gabriel forked a couple pancakes onto a plate and slid it to him. “Here. Jo makes the best pancakes in the area. Have a couple. You need to fatten up a little. Even the Donner party would throw you back for not having enough meat on your bones.”

It was an exaggeration that made him clench his teeth together in annoyance before picking up his silverware. “I didn’t lose _that_ much weight.”

Jo made a disgusted face. “Eew. I just ate. Can we not talk about cannibalism?”

“Just sayin’.” Gabriel ate his final bite of pancake.

“Not arguing, but still. Tact would be good.”

“I’m the epitome of tact,” Gabriel told her. “You want a less gross topic, I assume.”

“Please. Maybe one relevant.”

“Okay. How’s this for relevant?” He placed one arm on the back of her chair and looked at Castiel. “Dean had it all wrong, you know.”

Cas finished cutting the pancakes and reached for the syrup, ladling it on with a heavy hand. Since becoming human, he’d discovered a sweet tooth, fully understanding Gabriel’s love of sweets. “What was he wrong on?”

“The Colt. It never would have killed Lucifer.”

“It kills anything.”

“Nope, not him.”

“How do you know that?”

Gabriel smiled. “Think about that question. How would I know the Colt wouldn’t kill Lucifer?”

Jo yawned. “Because it doesn’t kill archangels.”

He stared at her, then at Gabriel, and back at her, pointing his fork at Gabriel. “You know who he is?”

“Mmm-hmm.” She drank the last of her coffee and put the cup down. “I figured it out a few days ago.” Her brows rose, that sleepy gaze meeting his. “I’m not stupid, you know. I can add up all the little things that didn’t quite make sense all by my little self.”

“You’re still here.”

“It doesn’t change anything. Not really. Look, I’d already had a suspicion that he wasn’t human. Everyone needs sleep and he didn’t. Couple that with how he’d just appear sometimes and I had suspicions.”

“Neither of those said angel to you at first?”

“The only angel I’d had contact with was you and bluntly? You weren’t exactly in ‘angel of the Lord’ mode by then. I didn’t know. For all I knew, he was some kind of demigod. They _do_ display both those abilities too.”

Gabriel’s laugh at the word ‘demigod’ was highly amused.

“What’s so funny,” Jo asked him.

“Oh, if only you knew.”

“Tell me and I will.”

“Not today. Another time.” He gestured at the doorway into the hall. “Would you give us a few minutes?”

Leaning over, she gave him a kiss and got up from her chair. “You can have a whole day of them. I’ve got to go to work.” She placed a hand on Cas’s shoulder and squeezed it gently. “Later, Cas.”

“Yeah.” He ate slowly.

Gabriel was silent until he’d finished. Once the plates were gone with a snap, he took something from his shirt pocket and held it up. “Do you know what these are, Castiel?”

Sighing, he took them and looked them over. “They’re rings.”

“Not just any rings. Horseman’s rings. Not easy to get. I nearly died getting Famine to give up his and Pestilence? Stubborn and dedicated. Death was willing to negotiate, however. I’m missing one, though. War. I know Dean had it. Any idea where he kept it?”

“In his cabin. At least, that’s where I saw it last, but that was a long time ago.” He didn’t care to revisit that last moment he’d been in Dean’s cabin.

“Okay. You’ll go with me and help me find it.”

Alarm slid through him. “Back to the camp? No.” He shook his head. “ _No_. I can’t --”

They were there then, in a blink. Gabriel hadn’t even needed to touch him to move them both. They were sitting at the table in Dean’s cabin.

Everything was still, layered in dust, the smell musty, the scent of mold heavy. Castiel turned his head. The covers on Dean’s bed were rumpled, his clothes still tossed in one corner. In the center of the table was a fourth of a bottle of whiskey and a glass that was spidery with cracks and filmed with dust.

The window above the bed was open, a dark stain spreading across the pillows and sheets beneath it. That was where the mold smell came from. Rain had gotten in and without anyone to stop it, the mold had grown and spread. At the end of the bed, he saw a shirt he vaguely remembered Risa as having worn a lot.

Pushing back the chair, he stood. “Take me back.”

“Not until we have the ring.”

“I don’t want to be here.” His hands were shaking and he clenched them into fists.

“Why not?”

“I just don’t. You can find the ring easily enough without me.”

Here it comes, here it comes, here it comes…. He could see Gabriel’s intent in his eyes and found his breaths were harder to take now than they’d been back at the base. His throat felt like it was closing up, his heart racing in his chest, and nausea starting a slow flip-flop in his stomach.

“Why don’t you want to be in here, Castiel? When was the last time you were here? Tell me.”

It was an order he disobeyed. “No.”

He remembered it clearly and why not? He relived it in dreams enough. Dean talking to him, searching for clean clothes with a towel wrapped about him, fresh from a shower. He’d been out on a mission earlier that hadn’t gone well, expressing his frustration for that.

\-- “ _It’s like we take one step forward and two back and repeat over and over. Can we ever actually catch a damn break?”_ \--

Cas had sat on the side of the bed watching him, commiserating, understanding the hurt and frustration. He’d been feeling quite a bit of that himself, so he did understand and wanted Dean to know he understood. Dean had sat beside him, not close exactly, but closer than what he usually said was a proper distance. Dean had sighed and raised a hand, running it through his hair in a gesture that seemed weary.

\-- _Dean’s body was warm still from the hot water, he could feel that heat, see the line of his back was tight with tension._ \--

He’d reached out then, wanting to give his love and affection for Dean and receive love and affection in return….

_\-- “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Cas?” --_

There had been revulsion in Dean’s eyes when he’d shoved Cas away, scornful words slipping from Dean’s lips. Though he’d tried for nonchalance in the face of that disgust, Dean’s reaction had hurt deeply. He’d only wanted to show his love, to express how he felt….

He hadn’t been back in Dean’s cabin since then, avoiding it successfully, unwilling to recall that look in Dean’s eyes.

Gabriel slapped his hand down on the table. “The last time you were here, Dean spurned your advances. He shoved you away from him, ordered you from this cabin, and even shoved you at the door. He called you names that hurt you, like degenerate, and asked what was wrong with you. He hurt you emotionally, humiliated you, and turned you away.”

He hugged himself, shoulders hunching. “Stop,” he whispered. “I don’t want to remember.”

Dean hadn’t shouted, but his voice had been tight from anger, which was somehow worse than shouting. Shouting Cas could have dealt with, but not the too-calm near whisper.

“How long ago was that? Two and a half years maybe? That’s a long time to avoid a building, Castiel. It’s just a place. Wood, glass, stone, and whatnot.”

“I want to go back.”

“It’s not the place that hurts. It’s the memory of what happened in that place.”

“I hate you, Gabriel,” he spat.

“I know you do, Cas. I know.” He stood from the chair. “Where’s the ring?”

Whirling, he went to the shelves along one wall, grabbed a carved wooden box and opened it. The ring was still there. He closed the box and thrust it at Gabriel. “Here. Take it. Take me back _now_!”

They returned to the kitchen as Jo walked back into it fully dressed and with her wet hair braided.

“I only have half a shift today….” Stopping beside him, she put a gentle hand on his arm, peering up at him. “Are you okay, Cas?” She touched his cheek. “You’re crying.”

He shoved her hand away and pointed at Gabriel. “Screw you. Screw _you_ , Gabriel.” Cas brushed past Jo and out the door, heading for the one person he knew wouldn’t ask questions: Risa.


	9. Chapter 9

When Jo had gone to take her shower, everything had been fine. Somehow, in fifteen minutes, Gabriel had upset Cas. Jo was sure it was Gabriel, too. Castiel didn’t cry and say ‘screw you’ without a reason.

“What did you do or say to him,” she asked as the door slammed behind Castiel.

Gabriel held out the box he had in his hands and opened it. “We went to the camp and got the last ring.”

She looked inside, saw the ring amid a few coins and a lighter. “Somehow, I doubt that part is what upset him. What else?”

“It was in Dean’s cabin.”

He seemed to think that meant something and Jo nodded. “Right. Okay. And?”

“You don’t know?”

“Know what?”

His eyes widened. “It happened after you’d left.”

She put her hands on her hips. “Gabriel, come on. Say whatever it is you’re trying to say. I’ve got to go in the next five minutes or I’ll be late.”

Closing the box, he set it on the table. “I know you’re aware of the strong feelings Castiel had for Dean Winchester.”

“Strong doesn’t describe it. Obsessive is a good start. I was there to see it begin really building. Dean would smile at him and slap his back in that guy affection way and Cas would practically wiggle like a puppy. Every bit of approval from Dean on something and he was elated, like it validated him or something.” She shrugged. “I guess Cas needed that, except when Dean pulled back, he didn’t or couldn’t. Didn’t know how, maybe? Castiel is…. Extreme is a good word, I think. He’s extreme in all his emotions and has been. I’ve noticed he’s still like that now.”

“Take that emotion to the next step: action.”

She shook her head. “No. Tell me Cas didn’t….” When Gabriel remained silent, his gaze sad, she squeezed her eyes shut. Oh Cas, sweetheart, you didn’t. “He made a sexual move on Dean?”

“He did and with a painful result emotionally. Dean was rather forceful in his feelings on that and on his opinion of Castiel’s behavior. He ordered him from his cabin. Pushed him even. Castiel still feels humiliated and hurt by it.”

Jo wanted to cry for that, for both Dean and Castiel. 

For Dean, who hadn’t seen Cas’s feelings and when he had seen it hadn’t reacted in a manner sensitive to the situation. His behavior in the face of that knowledge couldn’t have done either of them any good and had likely damaged their relationship more than Cas’s pass at him.

For Castiel, who hadn’t been able to pull away before getting burned. Rejection did hurt and the way he felt things, she thought it probably hurt him more than the average person. To be rejected by someone he’d thought cared for him when he’d had strong evidence for that assumption? Terrible. Dean _had_ shown him affection in the past. Jo had seen it. He’d treated Castiel like he cared about him.

Dean could have handled it better, but she could imagine what had been going on in his mind right then, too. He really had loved Castiel in his own way. Sort of a brother and friend, but not quite either. A mix of the two. Honestly, Jo thought Dean hadn’t known quite how to deal with an angel turning human. When human behavior still confused, it had to be hard to become human and know what was normal and average even with a guide -- and Dean wasn’t the best guide for normality. He’d been the first to admit that.

She could easily see him freezing in place, thinking up a hundred excuses in seconds for whatever Castiel had done and tossing them all away when he realized Cas really was doing what Dean thought he was. Embarrassment maybe that he was going to actually have to address the issue of Cas’s attraction to him, an issue he hadn’t realized had become a sexual one. Anger at himself for letting it get to that point or for not noticing it had. Anger at Cas for doing what he’d done in the first place. Perhaps he’d even felt some guilt, a wondering if he’d somehow done something or said something to make Castiel think he’d be open to that. 

Yeah, Jo could easily figure out the sort of things Dean might have been thinking. But with Dean dead and him never the sort of guy to talk about things like that anyway, she’d never know what had been in Dean’s mind at the time.

“No wonder he’s emotional when Dean is brought up in conversation.”

“Don’t let on I told you.”

“I won’t.” She looked at the box on the table. “You’ve got all of them now?”

“I do.”

“And?”

Emotion bled from his eyes, leaving his gaze cool and hard. “When I have a plan, you’ll be the first to know.”

She stared back at him. “Hell I will. You already have a plan. What is it?”

“You need to go to work.”

“They can damn well wait on me. Tell me what you’re planning.”

He shook his head. “No. I’m not ready to put my plan into action. When you need to know something, you’ll know it and not a moment before.”

Somehow, she thought he’d probably act and not tell her like he had before with the other rings. Whatever he was planning, he knew she wouldn’t like it and it’d be futile to try to drag it from him. “Dick,” she said and turned to leave.

Gabriel grabbed her arm and dragged her back to him. His other hand gripped her jaw, holding her how he wanted. The kiss he gave her was blistering and passionate and when he released her, she felt more than a little warm. “You know you love me.”

Jo left without replying or giving in to the thought that maybe, he was right. She wasn’t sure admitting loving an archangel even the slightest bit was a particularly good idea.

~~~~~~~~~~

Risa woke to a fist banging on the door and stumbled to it, peeking out the window before opening it.

Castiel stood there, hugging himself, his shoulders hunched, the emotions on his face giving him a wild look. With a quick glance at the quiet neighborhood behind him, she drew him inside. The last time she’d seen him like this had been that day after they’d left the camp, when she’d held him by the side of the road.

She cupped his jaw with her right hand. “What do you need?”

He shook his head, shrugging. “I….” A choking sob left him. “I don’t know.”

“Okay. Okay. Come here.” She pulled him to her, wrapping her arms around him, ignoring the aches from her shoulder, arm, and wrist. She was glad she’d taken her pain pills when she’d woken at the six a.m. reveille -- or whatever time they’d blasted it. Without the pills, his embrace would have been agony.

He held her every bit as tight as he had that day, sobbing like he had then, body trembling against her. This was raw emotion, the same that they’d released upon each other for five months. Risa knew they just had to ride it out and wait for it to pass. She maneuvered them both back, into the bedroom -- not for sex, but to lie down with comfort. The couch was fairly small and the bed much bigger and comfortable. 

She had to tell him to sit on the side of the bed, then knelt and removed his shoes. It was awkward to do with a cast, but she managed. He laid down with her, slipping his arms around her again. Risa stroked his hair, murmuring soothing words.

It seemed hours later when he quieted and raised up on one arm. “Gabriel knows about what happened with Dean.”

“I didn’t tell him.”

“I know you didn’t.”

“ _You_ told him?” She brushed his hair from his brow. He was going to need a haircut again soon.

He opened his mouth, then shook his head. “No, I didn’t tell him.”

“Then how --”

“He just knows. The how isn’t important right now. I promise, I’ll tell you later how he knows.”

He’d never promised information before. “Okay. Later.”

“He confronted me about it, but not in the way I expected. I thought he’d say those things Dean said, maybe tell me I was wrong.” He laid back down beside her. “He just sat there while I remembered it all, gave his own succinct description of what happened. He didn’t accuse. Did you know I avoided Dean’s cabin for years because that’s where it happened?”

“I didn’t know that.”

“True. I didn’t go there because it hurt too much to think of going in and seeing where it happened, remembering the look in his eyes, and the words he said. His eyes were the worst, Risa. Do you know what it feels like to have someone you love look at you like you’re not even worth looking at? Like you’re the worst piece of scum to ever stick to his shoe?”

“I’ve never been there, but I can imagine it.”

“It’s humiliating. It’s like a knife in your gut that just keeps slicing every time you remember.” He rolled onto his back. “He didn’t love me. Dean didn’t love me.” His voice cracked a little on the word ‘love’ in both statements.

“I don’t think he loved anyone, Cas.” She sat up and moved closer, placing a hand on his chest.

“No, he loved Sam. Sam was his brother. He loved him to the very end and regretted every day what he should have done.”

“What should he have done?” She’d known Sam was Dean’s brother and that he’d been a sore spot with him.

“He should have let him come back.” He twined their fingers together. “Then maybe none of this,” he gestured in the air with his other hand, “would ever have happened. Maybe things could have been stopped and none of us would have found out the painful truth of who we really are under the illusion of civilization.”

“It did happen, though. We can’t change the past.”

“I want to. I want to be what I was before. I was so much more then.” The longing in his voice was almost painful to hear. “You didn’t know me then, Risa. I was part of something --”

“You’re part of something now. You and me is something. It’s not big, but it is _something_. It’s not possible to go back. It’s only possible to go forward.”

“I want what I can’t get. I’ll never be an ang…what I was again.” He took a deep shuddering breath. “It will never happen and I’m human through and through for the rest of my days, however many or few there are. I’m forever parted from…myself. I’m broken.”

There he was saying ‘what’ instead of ‘who’ again, talking like he hadn’t been human before. Risa wondered if it could be true. “What’s broken can heal, like my shoulder, arm, and wrist. You can heal, Castiel.”

He returned his gaze to her, staring long minutes before asking, “You really think I can heal from that? From an integral part of me taken away?”

“If you want it badly enough…yes. Bodies heal, Cas. Minds heal. I think even a soul can heal, but it takes time.”

He was thoughtful then, brows drawing together in a frown, and it was much later before he left the house. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Castiel felt lighter of spirit after talking with Risa. He was able to go back to Gabriel’s house later in the day. While he didn’t like what Gabriel had done, it was done. He’d been made to remember the full pain of Dean’s refusal in the place it had happened. That night had shaped a lot of how they’d treated each other.

He was tired of dwelling on it; of letting it sit in his thoughts. As much as he’d loved Dean, Dean was long gone now. Castiel had to let him, and the issues that had surrounded them together, go. He made a conscious decision to do that. Maybe it’d do some good and maybe not.

As for what he’d been…. He wasn’t quite ready to look at that even closer.

That lightness he felt continued.

However, being in a house with Jo and Gabriel wasn’t conducive to a good night’s sleep. Cas could tell when Gabriel stopped helping him to sleep, because he’d wake up to the sounds of the two of them in the master bedroom. They made more noise than any of the orgies he’d ever held and he began to wonder when Jo actually slept, or if she really only needed four and a half hours of sleep. 

Maybe she did. Some people got by on less. Not him, of course. He’d found he needed a solid seven hours. Jo seemed to do well on less than five. Or maybe she was napping in the afternoon? Could Gabriel be stretching time out for her?

In desperation for rest, he fled to Jo’s tiny house.

Risa let him in. She was wearing a nightshirt, her legs bare. He noticed she’d either painted her toenails a bright pink or had someone do it for her. She had the tv on, though the station merely played the same programming over and over most days. For her, the tv seemed to be a comfort. She kept it on most of the time.

He sat with her for nearly an hour, watching a talent show that featured Jo as one of the performers, singing a torch song while she smirked, leered, and strutted about in a skimpy costume before the audience. He could tell Gabriel had probably had a hand in the choreography and maybe even the choosing of the song itself. He waited until the program was over before venturing a soft query. “Can I stay here with you tonight?”

“I don’t see why not. Why? What’s going on at Casa Mitchell?”

“What isn’t going on? They’re loud. Not just any loud, but of the sort neighbors are usually complaining about.” He leaned his head back against the couch cushion. “I’m not one to care about that normally because it’s like the pot calling the kettle, right? But when I say loud, I don’t mean for a little while. I mean ‘all night, straight through to dawn, when the hell does Jo ever sleep’ loud. Gabriel has her screaming and moaning for hours at a time.”

She laughed at that. “You know, I never would have guessed that to look at him. He doesn’t look like the all-night-long kind of guy.”

“Some guys looks like that?”

“Oh yeah. With some men, you can tell at a glance that they’re sexual dynamos.” She crossed her legs, the nightshirt sliding up her thighs.

“There’s a lot more to him than meets the eye. He’s not typical, that’s for sure.” Cas smothered a yawn with one hand, then stretched his arms along the back of the couch. “Got a couple extra blankets?”

“Why?”

“For the couch.”

Risa used the remote to click the tv off, glancing askance at him “It’s ridiculous to sleep on the couch, Cas. We slept on a twin bed together for five months. Most of that time we slept naked. I think we can handle a full size.” She got up. “Come on.”

He followed her into the bedroom and closed the door. It was a habit now to close the door at night. At the camp he hadn’t worried about doors too much, but after those months with her, where it had been important to keep things barred, he’d grown used to locking up wherever he was at night. Risa pulled the covers back on the bed, a little awkward because of the cast. He went to her, placing his hands on her hips and turning her to face him as she stood. She put a hand on his chest and looked up at him, lips parting.

Cas dragged a hand up to cup her neck. “I’ve missed you.”

“You’ve missed me or you’ve missed the sex?”

He felt a little wounded by that. “I’ve missed you.” He pressed a kiss to her mouth. “And I’ve missed the sex, but mostly I’ve missed you.” Taking a step closer, Castiel slid his other hand around to her back and lower, onto the curve of her rear. “Tell me what you want me to do. Anything, Risa. Anything at all. What do you _need_?”

Uncertainty flickered in her dark eyes. “I need you to hold me,” she licked her lips, “and pretend this is the first time.”

“I can do that.”

He took his time, kissing her, holding, and caressing her, making the night what she wanted it to be.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Sex felt different here.

Risa noticed that the first time they had sex since Bobby Singer’s house. There was a tentativeness, a newness to it, that made him feel like a new lover to her instead of one whom she’d shared the darkest pieces of herself. It was what she’d wanted and needed from him and she was surprised that the feeling of newness remained past that night. A level had been reached between them, something different than before.

Maybe it was good they’d seen the worst of each other, for there was no where to go but up. Perhaps it was best that the polite societal veneer had been ripped away and there were no illusions as to who they both were under it all. It gave them an understanding of each other that others lacked.

They weren’t strong. They were both selfish, neurotic, and possessive, and they both knew what they’d do to survive together and just how long they’d last before they snapped.

She wrapped her right arm around him and laid her cheek against his shoulder. “You should bring some clothes here.”

“You want me to?” He clasped her hand in his, pressed it against his stomach.

“Yes. You’ve been here every night for two weeks, Cas. I think you can safely bring a few clothes over.” There was room in the closet and dresser. It wasn’t like she had a ton of clothes.

He sat up and turned. “I’d like that.”

Life went on. Risa continued to stay away from anything that might require her to leave the base and, after much thought, she joined a support group.

~~~~~~~~~~

Gabriel wanted Castiel to have weekly check-ups. It was a thing he went along with to have something to do. He sat while Nathan and the nurse looked him over. Weight, blood pressure, a new round of blood drawn for tests. Gabriel had them doing every blood and urine test they could. A part of him wondered why when Gabriel could look at him and know if something was going on. Accountability maybe? If he knew he was going to be tested random days in a week he wasn’t going to do drugs? Like he knew where to procure drugs here. 

The camp had been easy. He’d simply gone to supplies and looked through the shelves until he found something or gone on a raid and picked up things out there. Here, everything was locked up and it seemed there was a running tally being kept all over the place on every ounce of alcohol he had. 

It appeared that he’d become Gabriel’s project.

He sat for a moment after Nathan and the nurse left, already feeling a tenderness in the crook of his arm from where they’d taken the blood. There was going to be a bad bruise there later. It had taken the nurse three tries this time. The first one, she’d put the needle right through the vein. The second missed the vein. Third had been a charm. He pulled his shirt back on and buttoned it most of the way up, then picked up the slip of paper he was supposed to leave at the desk by the outer door. 

The hallway outside the examining room he’d been in was loud with voices when Castiel stepped outside. He didn’t have to ask what had happened. Jo’s team had gone out that morning. Activity meant something had gone wrong and someone, or several people, were injured.

He wasn’t prepared for it to be Jo.

As the doctors and nurses wheeled her past, he got a very good look at her limp body. Blood slicked her shirt and jeans and he saw rips in her shirt that looked like bullet holes. She didn’t even look like she was breathing.

A hand gripped his shoulder and he turned his head to find Nathan, beside him.

“Two shots got her. Most of the blood isn’t hers. She’s been sedated. Mitchell met them coming in, stayed with her until they got here, then had to go deal with a crisis at the south gate.”

“There are more rips in her shirt than just two,” he pointed out.

“She’s not one to waste clothing. At least that’s what El says. It’s probably an old shirt.”

“El?” He raised his brows at that. He couldn’t recall Ellen letting anyone call her ‘El’.

“Ellen. Her mother. Thought you knew her, Castiel?”

“I do. I’ve never heard anyone call her that --”

The doors at the end of the hall burst open, Ellen coming through them. She hurried towards them. “Where is she,” she demanded. “I want to see her.”

“Help me grab her if she tries to follow them. Grab her if I miss and don’t let go, because she’ll fight dirty,” Nathan said in a low murmur before stepping in her way, arms spreading wide to catch her if she tried to push past him. “She’s in surgery El. They just took her in. You know it’ll be awhile before you can see her.”

“I’m not waiting. Get me a gown and mask. I’m going in with them.” Her gaze darted back and forth from one side of Nathan to the other. 

“No, you’re not.”

Ellen shook her head, determination on her face. “Don’t get in my way, Nate. That’s my little girl in there. She could be dying --”

“She’s not. This isn’t even as bad as when she was stabbed.”

“Bullshit. Let me by.”

“Afraid I can’t do that. You go in there, you’ll distract them. You know this. We have this talk every time.”

“She’s my baby.”

“The shots went clear through her, clean, and no internal organs were hit.”

“I need to see her.”

“I can’t let you.”

She was fast and fought just as dirty as Nathan had said she would, slipping from Nathan’s grasp. She was nearly past Cas before he reached for her, grabbing onto her. She twisted in his arms and they went down with a crash. Together, he and Nathan got her immobile.

Nathan pushed up her sleeve. “Why do you do this every time, El?” He took the tip off of a prepared syringe and plunged the needle into her arm.

“Because one of these times it really will be the last time I see her.” Ellen went limp in his arms as the drug went through her system.

With a long sigh, Nathan got to his feet and placed the syringe in a container on the wall. “Think you can carry her by yourself?”

“Yes.” It took a moment to maneuver into a standing position with her, but he did it.

“I’ll show you where to put her. You can wait there with her if you want. It’s the same room Jo’ll be in when she comes out of surgery.”

It seemed hours before they wheeled Jo in. She looked haggard under the lights, pale and bloodless. Castiel waited for her to wake up. He understood Ellen’s behavior, perhaps more than some people. Jo was her life. 

He knew a little something about that feeling.

~~~~~~~~~~

When Jo woke, it was to flashes of pain mixed with that curious floating sensation she got from some painkillers. She saw Castiel in the chair beside the bed. He was hunched over, his arms on his thighs and hands clasped, watching her wake. She tried to smile. “Hey….”

“Hi. How are you feeling?”

She pursed her lips and considered the question. “Floaty.”

“Good stuff, huh?”

“The best.” She looked behind him and frowned. “Cas? What’s my mom doing in the next bed?”

“We had to sedate her.”

“We?”

“Me and…Nathan.”

She forced herself to open her eyes wide, trying to see better. It didn’t help. The room still looked a little out of focus. “Buddies now, huh? Battlefield promotion from patient to friend from tackling my mom in the hallway?” Jo could hear her own voice was drowsy, the words slow and slurred a little.

“Something like that.”

“Nathan’s a cool guy.”

“He knew what to do. How’d you know we tackled her?”

“He’d better know what to do. He’s been handling her since we hooked up with Gabriel. He’s an original member of the unit. As for how, he has to every time. She gets worried.” She let her eyes close. “How many times did they say I was shot?”

“Two.”

“Mmm….” She cleared her throat. “Liars.”

“Jo?”

She was very thirsty now, opening her eyes again. “Could you get me some water?”

Castiel got up and brought a cup to her, angling the straw so she could take a sip. “Small sip,” he told her. “Nathan said.”

“I know.” She drank. “Thanks. I was shot more than twice, Cas. Try four or five times. Gabriel did what he could with the worst of them.”

“He could have healed you completely.”

Raising a hand, she motioned weakly for him to lean close. She touched his cheek, felt his beard tickling her palm. “He won’t because when I’m injured and healing it keeps me on base safe. We’ve argued. Typical male protecting…female….” She gave his cheek a light pat. “Tired now. Need to sleep. Bring Risa later, yeah?”

She slipped back to sleep before he even replied.


	10. Chapter 10

Castiel decided to stay until Ellen woke up. She’d said she didn’t want him to look for her and he hadn’t. He’d realized how much his behavior had affected her and rather than cause her more hurt, he’d done his best to remain out of her sight, respecting her request. There were so many things he was only now coming to understand that he shouldn’t have done over the years and screwing around on her was just one of them. It had been an accident to run in to her here. He’d already been here when she’d come in after Jo, but he thought he’d stay and update her on Jo’s status. She’d be okay with that. He hoped. If not, he’d apologize for that assumption and leave. 

He watched Jo sleep mostly, studying her, wondering what about her had attracted Gabriel and made him want her and not a made-up woman. She was as complex as any other woman he’d met, yet with Gabriel’s abilities, did that matter? Or had he really done what he’d called the ‘hard way’ with her? Had he restrained himself from looking in her mind and plucking out the details that made Jo the woman she was? If so, then why? Was it because it was a challenge? They were a puzzle to him because of Jo’s complete nonchalance on Gabriel being an archangel. She behaved as though those things Gabriel was capable of didn’t bother her.

Were they any different from him and Risa though? Risa knew the darkest parts of him and still seemed to want to be with him. She gave him what he needed. Was it the same with Jo and Gabriel? Did they simply give each other what they needed? Could it really come down to something as simple as need?

Periodically, he’d glance over at Ellen, looking for signs that she was beginning to wake. He’d never meant to hurt her. Really he hadn’t. She’d taken him in hand and taught him more than the sexual matters, giving him insight into women and parts of life Dean hadn’t considered telling him. She’d given part of her life to him and he’d shown a disregard for that gift. Perhaps the label she’d put upon him of ‘selfish’ was accurate in that respect. He’d done what he’d wanted and hadn’t thought about her.

She began to stir, making tiny noises and rolling her head on the pillow. After a moment of that, her eyes opened and she turned her head to see Jo in the bed beside hers. A smile curved her lips, her sigh relieved. “Well, I feel a ton of silly right now.” Ellen sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her smile faded when she saw him, a frown replacing it. “Cas?”

He waved a hand at her. “Hey. I wasn’t looking for you, I swear. I was already here when they brought Jo in and Nathan told me to grab you. Thought I’d stay and tell you what they said so you don’t have to hunt someone down about her.”

“Where’s Nate? Usually he’s here with me when I wake up.”

“There was an incident at the south gate. Brought someone else in while Jo was still in surgery.”

“Ahh.” She shifted position, hands sliding on the edge of the bed before she gripped it. “She woken up yet? I think Nate gave me enough to fell an elephant this time. I know I’m awake, but I still don’t feel quite awake yet.”

“She woke up a little bit ago. Ordered me to bring Risa to see her.”

“Jo likes Risa.”

He nodded. “I noticed. They talk a lot when Jo’s not working.”

“It’s good for Jo to have a friend closer her age. Gabriel’s interest in her squashed a lot of potential friendships, I think.”

“Why?”

“Girl issues, Cas. Ladies like Gabriel.”

He smiled at that. “It’s not surprising really.” He took a deep breath and nodded his head in Jo’s direction. “Jo’s going to be fine. Shoulder shot and side. She’ll have a lot of pain. They’ve got some sort of pain med release set up so she can press the button to release more if she needs it. She said she’d been shot before, so I guess you know what to expect. The usual after-care instructions for when she’s out of here. They left some papers on the table behind you.”

“Papers for me or Gabriel?”

“I don’t know. They just put them down and left.”

Ellen leaned back and snagged the papers. She was still looking them over when Jo shifted in her bed, pain contorting her face as she woke this time. Ellen set the papers aside and went to her, one hand touching Jo’s brow, the other closing Jo’s hand around the med release button. “Shhh…it’s okay, Jo. Press the button, baby. It’ll release more for you, take away that pain.”

“Mom?”

“I’m here. You know I’m here for you.”

“Hurts.” Jo shifted a little, eyes squeezing tighter shut. She looked even more pale than she had earlier.

“I know. You’ll get through the pain. Lot of us here to help. Whatever you need. Gabriel, me, Cas, Risa, Nathan…. Whole lot of people here for you. You’ll make it through the pain and you’ll get all better. You’ll be back on your feet before you know it.”

On that note, he thought he should probably leave the two of them alone. He got up from the chair and jerked a thumb towards the door, saying in a quiet voice, “I’m gonna go. Give you time alone.”

“Cas?”

“Yeah?” He paused at the door, looking over his shoulder at her.

“Thank you for staying with us, being here when she woke that first time. She’ll remember that.”

“You’re welcome, Ellen.” With a last glance at Jo, he left the room and the tiny hospital, walking slowly to Jo’s house and letting himself in.

Risa was on the couch. There was a pile of books on the coffee table and an open DVD case beside it. Whatever movie she’d picked up, she stopped, and looked at him. “I heard about Jo. How is she?” Risa ran her hand up and down the cast. Her arm had been itching a lot the past few days. He thought that was a good sign that her arm and wrist were healing.

“Good actually. In a lot of pain, of course, but….she wants me to bring you to see her later.”

“We can go tomorrow. I have to be there anyway.”

He sat beside her, curious as to why she’d been spending so much time there. “Why _are_ you going there every couple days? You never said.”

She bit her lip, then reached for something on the coffee table. It was a notebook, spiral, with several loose sheets of paper stuck in it. She handed it to him.

“What’s this?” He opened it up and looked at the top sheet. The title was ‘Group Rules’. “Risa?” He turned the rest of the loose pages and saw the first page of the notebook. The handwriting was neat. The words on the page appeared to be a journal.

‘ _How do I honestly feel about those five months? To be perfectly honest, I hate them. I hate that we left people to die and didn’t even warn them. We left people who’d called us friends to die at Lucifer’s hands. What kind of people do that? I hate myself, I hate him, I hate what we did and became with each other. I hate the part of me that was brought out and displayed in front of another person. How am I supposed to feel about willingly prostituting myself just so I wouldn’t be alone? Am I supposed to like the fact that I threw away every moral fiber I had? Am I supposed to like the desperation, the whiny neediness, the fact that I did anything he wanted because I knew he’d stay? Or how about that I did like those games we played? The animal thrill I got from those was exciting. But I can’t like it. Who in their right mind wants all of their worst traits up front and center? Who wants to face who they really are under the polite, well-mannered surface?’_

“I joined a support group and I’m getting personal counseling.”

Castiel closed the notebook and handed it back to her. “You hate me?” He’d known she would. He remembered thinking that the day they’d driven to Bobby’s. He’d known then that she’d hate herself and he’d been right. She hated him…and she’d come to him in night and day, just like those people at the camp.

“No, Cas, I don’t hate you.”

“You wrote that. You wrote that you hate me.” He studied her. There was determination in her eyes.

“It’s complicated. You know that. I’m every bit as screwed up as you are. This notebook is a therapy technique. I write down my thoughts on that time and maybe I’ll find a peace about it. Maybe I won’t want to run screaming when I think about how we treated each other. We weren’t kind, Castiel. We manipulated each other. None of what we had there was healthy. Can you admit that?”

He knew it. The affect they’d had on each other had been toxic in that closed environment. “Is it helping? The writing it out, the group, the individual sessions. Is it helping at all?” He didn’t answer her question. There was a bit of curiosity growing inside him about her experience with all of that. Dean had never been one to talk about things like that, nor had Bobby. Could it actually help?

She put the notebook back on the table. “I think so. I can admit out loud that I behaved like a desperate whore, manipulating you to get what I wanted. I did a lot out of fear and desperation that I wouldn’t do under normal circumstances. I don’t hate you, Cas. I hate that you were a catalyst and that we worked off of each other in unhealthy ways.” She touched his knee with her hand, squeezed it. “I like you. I like you very much and I like who we both are here _far_ better than who we were there or who we were in the camp.” Risa watched him a moment, then drew her hand back. “Okay. What are you thinking? Because you’ve got this weird look on your face right now.”

“You’re telling strangers intimate details of what occurred between us.” He wasn’t angry about that exactly, but rather a little uncomfortable and uncertain how to feel about it. Who on the base knew what had gone on? Who was looking at him and was aware of those things they’d done? Why did it even bother him now when it hadn’t bothered him that people at the camp had known details?

“No, not in group. We talk mostly about the feelings involved and the physical consequences -- if we had any, not what actually happened. We discuss feelings a lot, try to work through them.”

“But you do talk to a stranger about it?”

“My doctor, yes. The details aren’t anything she hasn’t heard before from other people, Cas. She’s been counseling a long time.”

“Is it easier to talk to a stranger?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Especially since I know she’s not judging me. She’s very understanding, let’s me take charge of the direction of our sessions.” Her hand reached for his now and he let her take it. “You could meet her tomorrow. Come to her office about two, that’s when my appointment is over, and say ‘hi’.”

“I don’t know….” Did he really want a stranger poking and prodding in his mind when he already had Gabriel doing that? He was glad Risa was apparently feeling better by talking to the woman, but wasn’t sure he wanted to do the same.

“You wouldn’t be committing to anything by meeting her. Just…meet her?”

Risa wanted him to. He could see that clearly. She wanted him to meet her doctor and was hoping he’d like her enough to make an appointment. He sighed. “You really feel that therapy stuff is helping?”

“I do.”

Now he nodded. “Okay. I’ll meet her…but no guarantee I’ll make an appointment or join a group.”

“I’m not trying to push you into that. You know that, right? While I’d like you to, I won’t mention it again after you meet her.” 

The decision made, they lapsed into a silence that was still comfortable despite his discomfort from the conversation. A contradiction, he thought as Risa started the movie over. He tried to pay attention to the plot, but Ellen’s words to Jo kept coming back to him.

‘You’ll make it through the pain and you’ll get all better.’

He hoped both he and Risa could do just that. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Risa stood at the one-way glass, watching Gabriel with Jo. He was talking, reclining on the bed beside her. Occasionally, he’d touch her face or take her hand in his. While it appeared that they were arguing, there was still a tenderness in how they touched that indicated how much they cared for each other. She thought it was sweet. The tough soldier and the hunter. With a small smile, she turned away and began to walk to the elevator.

She was nervous about Castiel meeting her doctor. Chloe Shelbourne wasn’t an imposing woman. She was petite and somewhere in her fifties, with a non-threatening way of speaking that was almost soothing sometimes. Risa was nervous because she wanted Cas to like Dr. Shelbourne enough to consider actually making an appointment. She thought it’d be good if he had someone besides her, Jo, and Gabriel to talk to, someone who could assure him that what he’d felt and was feeling now were normal. 

It probably hadn’t been a good idea to let him have even a glimpse of what she’d been writing and she’d been regretting that since taking the notebook back from him. She’d been writing everything, every last feeling she’d had without restraint. She really did hate herself and him, but not how they both were now. She hated how they’d been then and wasn’t sure he fully understood that distinction.

The look on his face had been interesting to say the least. There’d been guilt, apprehension, and just plain fear, but he was more open to the idea of therapy than he’d been. He’d actually listened instead of ignoring the topic altogether. 

She went to her appointment and spent the hour talking about the issue of leaving people behind. Risa retained a lot of guilt over that action. They could have said something and hadn’t. They’d made a choice out of fear and now had to live with that.

“There are people who would have tried to save the camp. I know that. Once, I’d thought I was one of them. Yet, when confronted with the reality, I couldn’t do it. I had to think of myself. Does that make me a bad person? Selfish?”

“Afraid. Fear can be a big motivator, Risa.”

“I can’t do anything about it. It happened. I made a decision that cost a lot of people their lives. I wasn’t noble or even good at that moment. I just wanted to be safe and I didn’t care how I got to that point. I was willing to do anything.” She shrugged her right shoulder. “I still have nightmares about it. I imagine what he did to them and wonder if it’s possible that any of them survived. Were any of them able to flee before he got through the gates?”

She thought there was a possibility. If someone had been on the far side of camp by the water, maybe they could have taken one of the boats -- unless Lucifer had thought of that and had Croats coming by boat as well. 

Castiel was waiting outside when the appointment was over, looking as nervous as Risa herself felt about this meeting. He was pacing the small waiting area, his arms crossed.

Dr. Shelbourne followed her into the waiting room. “You’re Castiel?”

He stopped pacing. “I am.”

She held out a hand. “Chloe Shelbourne. I do private sessions on Tuesdays and Thursdays and meet with several of the groups the rest of the week. There are two other doctors in this office, Jeffrey Tanner and Christopher Lawson, who split up the rest of the week in private sessions and groups. It’s nice to meet you.”

He took her hand and released it quickly. “There’s not just you?”

“No. Three of us. Did you have any questions for me?”

For a second, it looked like he was going to say something and then he shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Okay. Well if you do, don’t hesitate to contact me or my colleagues.” She touched Risa’s arm. “Same time on Tuesday and bring your journal, okay?”

“I will.”

With a smile, Dr. Shelbourne excused herself and Risa let Cas lead her from the office and into the hallway towards the elevator. “Well?”

“Well, what? She seems nice.” His voice was distracted and he pressed the down button on the elevator.

“She’s very nice, Cas.” Turning, she looked up at him. He may be open to thinking about it, but he wasn’t ready to do it. He was still avoiding the past, not ready to face it. Risa put a hand on his chest, smoothed his t-shirt. “Okay. I’ll say no more about it.” She’d made that promise and would abide by it like she had the others she’d made. No more words on therapy -- unless he wanted information. “Let’s go see Jo.”

Jo was awake still when they got there. Risa wondered how tiring arguing with Gabriel had been for her and followed Cas into the room.

~~~~~~~~~~

She felt horrendous, which was exactly what Jo expected after having been shot. Gabriel wouldn’t even take some of the pain away. He said she had to remember she was mortal, that someday he might not be there to heal her at all. He didn’t want her becoming careless because she knew he’d heal her. Jo’s argument that she understood that was ignored. Gabriel claimed she was already starting to take his abilities for granted and if he didn’t let her suffer consequences it’d be a slippery slope into a complete disregard for her own safety.

As a result of that argument, she was in a pensive mood when Castiel and Risa came in to see her. She noticed they were holding hands and that there was a hint of vulnerability in Cas’s eyes. She wondered what had happened while she’d been out of commission for over a day.

“Jo, I didn’t know you could sing.” Castiel drew Risa forward with him. 

Jo frowned. “Sing? What are you talking about? Did I start singing drinking songs or something while high on painkiller yesterday?”

“Talent show,” Risa clarified, sitting in the chair by the bed, Castiel standing behind her.

“It’s been running every few hours,” Cas told her, lips twitching slightly.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh geez. I lost a bet with Gabriel, okay? Knowing what I know now, I wonder if he made me lose just to get me up there. In fact, it’s likely that’s what he did.”

Behind Risa, Cas raised a hand and made an emphatic gesture across his throat, accompanied by a shake of his head. Jo concluded by that that Risa still wasn’t aware of the truth about him and Gabriel. An interesting decision on his part, since the angel he’d been explained so much of the man he’d fallen to become. Was he planning on telling her at all?

“Made you lose?”

She returned her attention to Risa and the question. “Yes. He sometimes…tricks people.”

Castiel cleared his throat.

“The bet could easily have been thrown if he was determined to get me on stage -- and he was determined. He thought I’d have fun performing.”

“Did you?”

She smiled. “Maybe.”

Cas placed his hands on Risa’s shoulders, touch obviously gentle on her left one. “You look a little more relaxed today.”

“Pain meds at max. I won’t have much longer where they’ll allow that. Too easy to become addicted.” She smothered a yawn, then gestured at Risa. “Had a check-up on the arm yet? Any idea when the cast comes off?”

“Another week, maybe two. They said the average recovery is six weeks, but it can be longer or shorter. Guess mine is longer.”

“I’ll bet you can’t wait to have mobility back.”

“It’s itching like crazy, too.”

They stayed half an hour before Risa said she needed to leave and Jo saw an opportunity to ask Cas a few questions privately. He agreed to stay. She waited to speak until she heard the elevator doors close.

“Shut the door for me?” When he had and was sitting once more in the chair Risa had been in, Jo shook her head. “Cas, Cas, Cas.”

“What, what, what?” He gave her a goofy grin and pulled the chair right up to the bedside, crossing his arms on the edge of the bed and resting his chin on them.

“When are you going to tell her?”

“Tell her?”

“Don’t play dumb because I know you’re not. Tell her about the whole angel past. You know you can’t keep it a secret forever. She’s gonna find out. If I don’t slip-up, mom will, or Gabriel will say something just so you _have_ to spill the beans.”

That grin faded. “Jo….”

“Don’t ‘Jo’ me. You’re close to her, as close as Gabriel and I are, maybe even closer since you’ve seen the worst of each other. What’s the right thing to do here, Cas? You know what it is.”

His sigh was annoyed and he sat back. “You and Gabriel are both being awfully pushy these days.”

“Sweetheart, I’ve always been this way and I suspect he has to. If you haven’t noticed it until now….”

“I’m not ready to tell her and she’s not ready to hear it.”

“How do you know that? Have you tried?”

He looked away, jiggling one foot. She could hear the tap of his heel on the floor.

“You’re scared of telling her,” she guessed.

“Maybe I am, but it’s not like I should be with the other things I told her. The angel thing is mild. It’s nothing in comparison.”

“Then just do it and be done with it.”

He looked back at her and leaned forward, back in that crossed arm pose. “But what do I do if she rejects me like Dean did?”

She was startled that he seemed to know she knew what had happened. “Cas --”

A serious glint was in his eyes now. “I know you know, Jo. You and Gabriel…you’re like a real couple, telling each other things, with few secrets between you. Maybe he kept what he is a secret, but that’s all out now and you’re still together. There’s no way he didn’t tell you and I don’t think you were surprised, were you?”

“No. I’m not surprised by that.” She moved her hand, touching her fingers to his face, then sliding them through his hair. Jo hadn’t thought he’d realize how much Gabriel shared with her. “I could have guessed back then it would come to that at some point. Some people I can just…read.” 

“I don’t disgust you? Everything you know now? About that and what Risa and I did?”

“Not at all. Like I’m little miss innocent? Cas, I don’t see Risa rejecting you over you having been an angel. I just don’t see that happening. She’s stayed by you after everything you went through together. I think she wants to understand you and I think you should let her.”

He was quiet a moment, gaze lowering. When he looked back up, anxiety had replaced the seriousness. “I’m scared to.”

“I know.” She stroked his cheek. “Would you rather tell her and know how she’ll react or forever wonder and worry?”

Castiel sighed again. “I want to know.”

“Then what’s the right thing to do here, Castiel?”

“I need to tell her.”

She didn’t know how soon that would happen or if he’d talk himself out of doing that the second he left. At least he was thinking about it. It was progress, because she didn’t think he would have considered telling Risa the truth even a week earlier.

He remained at her bedside, chin resting on his arms, as she closed her eyes and let herself succumb to a well-needed rest.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quotes are from S4 episode 2: ‘Are You There God? It’s Me, Dean Winchester’ and S5 episode 4: ‘The End’.

By ten weeks on the base, Castiel had pretty much moved out of Gabriel’s house and into Jo’s house with Risa. He liked that switch, as it gave the illusion Gabriel couldn’t wake him up at two a.m. for a chat. Definitely an illusion, that. Gabriel woke him up whenever he felt like it. He’d wake him up without a single thought for the fact that Cas needed sleep, sometimes to talk about something as trivial as ice cream. He ignored any surliness Castiel displayed, behaving as though they were…friends.

While her cast had come off, Risa’s shoulder remained tender and sore and she was wary of overusing her arm and wrist. Nathan said she’d healed well and should have no problems building her strength back up. She’d expressed a desire to train with a gun again, but acknowledged to Castiel that she no longer wanted a hands on role like Jo had. She didn’t want to be part of a team that went outside the base. Her own actions after that disastrous mission made her wonder if she’d make that same decision a second time. She thought it best not to tempt fate.

He didn’t tell her that Gabriel wouldn’t let her go out anyway. 

Castiel discovered that Risa was right. Being alone here was different from being alone at Bobby’s house. There, they’d been very alone, relying on each other. Here, they had people around. They could socialize if they chose and it was that choice, he thought, that changed things. While they still enjoyed an evening watching a movie alone, they could easily head out to the bar and play darts or shoot pool, or go to Gabriel’s and relieve Jo’s boredom. It was the socialization that made the biggest difference. Humans were social creatures.

Jo wasn’t happy to have her activities curtailed. She wanted to be back at her job and Gabriel’s refusal to speed her healing process was driving her up the wall. She said she felt useless when she did go to work because all she could do was hand out assignments to everyone else and sit at a desk revising schedules and reports. No one would let her try anything more taxing than walking from point A to point B.

Risa planned to visit her in the afternoon for a couple hours of coffee, cards, and girl talk. Her words, not his. He thought the friendship that had developed there was good for both Jo and Risa. He was glad they’d become friends.

He continued to think about the therapy issue. At least Gabriel didn’t demand he go, or make him with a snap. It was still very much his decision whether or not he went. Risa was doing well in it, her moods lighter as the days went on and she developed a peace about herself. She smiled more and he’d come to enjoy seeing her smiles. They made him wistful for that kind of peace. He wanted it, yet wasn’t sure he could ever attain it. There was too much baggage, too many issues stemming from too many things.

One afternoon, he’d taken one of Chloe Shelbourne’s business cards from the wall of cards in the lobby. He’d spend minutes turning it over and over in his hands, fingers rubbing the print on it so much that the print on it began to wear. He carried it with him. A few times he’d even stopped outside the office door, hand reaching for the knob before he changed his mind. 

Castiel couldn’t quite take that step.

~~~~~~~~~~

Something had been puzzling Risa for a very long time and she decided to just come out and ask him about it. She waited until after a lazy morning in bed, figuring he’d be in a good mood and relaxed enough to maybe talk to her seriously.

He dragged on his jeans and fastened them, then reached for his shirt.

“Can I ask you something?” Risa sat up and reached for her robe, drawing it on and adjusting it as she moved to sit on the side of the bed.

“I suppose.” Cas pulled on his shirt.

“Once, you said that Dean needed you to remind him that an angel fell from heaven for him. What did you mean by that? Why you?”

“Ahh.” He buttoned the shirt, working each button slowly. “Not the kind of question I was expecting.”

“You keep saying ‘what’ you were before the Apocalypse started, never ‘who’. Will you tell me?”

Sitting beside her, he took her hand between his, fingers caressing. “You’re aware of a lot of things on the fringe of normal human society, creatures that aren’t really myth and so on. You know Lucifer exists and he’s an angel, so therefore, angels exist as well. Right?”

“Yes. It reasons out.”

He was quiet a minute, looking down at the floor, then back at her. Anxiety grew in his eyes as he continued. “I was one of them, Risa. I was an angel, one of the soldiers of heaven. You remember that hand print scar on Dean’s shoulder?” 

She nodded. She’d wanted to ask Dean about it and had never found the right moment. He hadn’t exactly invited inquiries on it.

“Mine. My hand. I was the one pulled Dean from hell, yanked him up out of a literal hell, a real place that does exist. I later made the choice to leave heaven. There was wrongdoing there and I couldn’t follow my superiors who were perpetrating those wrongs. I knew what was right back then. I fell from heaven, lost my angelic powers, and became human. Mostly human. And that’s when everything became…jumbled. It was confusing, hard, painful, and my perceptions shifted. I fell hard and I haven’t been able to get back to my feet.”

“An angel.” She pulled her hand from his, thinking about everything she knew about him and those things he’d said. This wasn’t far-fetched. In fact, it actually cleared up a few odd wonderings she’d had about him. If he was an angel…. Risa remembered what he’d said about himself and Gabriel, about how they were raised together. From what he’d said, she could infer that Gabriel was an angel too.

“Yes,” he confirmed with a nod.

“How long have you been mostly human?” There was a vulnerability about him now, a fragility, as though the wrong word from her would send him crashing down.

“Since long before we even met at the camp. That’s why I said it’s not important, Risa. I was an angel. I’m not one anymore, and there’s no way I’m going to be one ever again. It doesn’t matter, just ignore it completely.”

“But it _is_ important, Cas. Who we were before is always a part of who we are. We can ignore it, deny it, pretend it was never there, but it is. It doesn’t go away and no matter how you wish it wasn’t that way, it can’t be changed. Who we were is always an important piece of who we become.”

“But I don’t really like who I am in relation to who I was. I was an angel, Risa. An _angel_. Becoming human after that…. It’s nothing but pain.”

She drew her legs up so that she was kneeling. “Not all pain. I’ve seen you have really good days where I don’t think you even think about it. It’s not all pain.”

“I’ll understand if you want me to leave.”

The statement threw her for a long minute and while he claimed he’d understand such a want, his voice indicated otherwise. “Leave?”

He nodded, not looking at her. “Leave. Go back to Gabriel’s. Move out.”

“Why would I want that?”

His head turned, a sliver of hope and confusion mingled together in his gaze. “You don’t?”

She snorted. “Hell no. After you finally gave me the piece of the puzzle that makes some of you actually make sense to me? I don’t think so. Castiel, I’ve been trying to figure you out from day one at that house and while I got some of you, I couldn’t seem to make the rest make sense.”

“Now you can.”

“Somewhat. Knowing that helps me.” She reached out and cupped his face in her hands. “I want you here, with me. Is that clear enough? We gave each other ourselves, remember? We’re part of each other, connected. That doesn’t just go away because you were once an angel.”

“You’re certain you wish me to stay?”

“Positive.” She drew him to her and held him.

This time neither of them cried.

~~~~~~~~~~

Since no one was letting her do anything at work, Jo took a few more days off. They could handle things without her and if they did need her they knew where to find her. She and Risa had several things planned for the time. Today was coffee, cards, noshing the desserts Gabriel kept around, and girl talk. Jo was curious as to whether or not Castiel had ever said anything to her about his past. Not that she’d out him, she just planned to ask a few questions and see what Risa said.

It turned out, however, that she didn’t have to ask. Risa brought up the subject as they were working their way through slices of triple chocolate cake with whipped cream and cherries.

“You know Castiel from before, Jo. I know you and your mom both do, but how far before?”

“Back in ‘09.”

“Was he still….” She licked her lips. “Never mind. You’ll think I’m nuts.” 

“No, Risa, what? I won’t think you’re crazy.”

“Was he still an angel,” she blurted out. “Please tell me you knew him then and it’s really true because it makes so much sense to me if it is.”

“Uh…yeah, I knew him then, but he was already falling, losing his powers.”

“It’s true? It’s really true?”

“Sure is.”

“That means…. Once he’d said something about him and _Gabriel_ that --”

“Yes.” She sipped her coffee. “He’s one too. Archangel, actually, which means he got to keep his powers when he left. Castiel was a regular angel, so the other angels were able to cut off the flow.”

“Oh. I’d…. I’d wondered after we talked. I mean, I’d wondered about Gabriel. Wow.”

“It’s a lot to take in, I know.”

“No, it’s not that much, really. Lucifer is out there in the world, Jo. This is small stuff compared to that.”

She smiled. “You know, I think that’s just the attitude Cas needs right now from you.” Jo reached for another slice of cake. “There are a few perks of seeing an angel or former angel.”

“Like what?” Risa took a big bite of her own cake.

“Like you don’t have to worry.”

“About what?”

Jo gestured at her. “Pregnancy. The vessel process does something to the sperm. Basically, he’s shooting blanks. Even if they meet up with an egg, they wouldn’t know what to do with it.”

“How do you know?”

“Gabriel.” She reached for her coffee and took a sip. “When he looked Castiel over that first day and studied the changes in him, that was one of the things he noticed. The ‘issue’ didn’t change just because he became human.”

“Mostly human.”

“Yeah. Angels can’t reproduce, Risa. Their numbers are finite. If it was as simple as vesseling up and having babies to replenish, they probably would have. It’s not the case. Even graceless and powerless, they can’t have kids.”

“That’d explain his casual disregard for protection.”

She smiled. “Nah. He’s just a normal guy who’ll go bareback unless you insist otherwise. I remember him and Dean having this argument about it. Cas was complaining about the loss of sensation with condoms and Dean was telling him it didn’t matter, that he needed to be responsible and use them all the time, not just some of the time. Huge, huge argument. Cas said that if he caught something and died from it, then Dean wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore.”

The memory was almost fresh in her head, one of those turning points in her life. She’d stood there with Ellen, watching her mother realize that her lover was sleeping around on her with no regard for his, or her, safety. She’d watched that stricken look blossom on her mother’s face. It seemed she’d been able to see Ellen’s heart breaking in two.

“Dean was beyond pissed. I’d never seen him that mad before. He said that Cas was being selfish, that it wouldn’t be only him catching something, but everyone he had sex with. You know, the standard STD talk most of us got in high school,” she inclined her head a little, “or from our over-protective mother at age eleven when we got our period for the first time.”

“Was that when you and Ellen left?”

“Yeah. The next day. She didn’t yell at Cas or anything. No goodbye. Sometimes I wonder what he thought of that. We told Dean we were taking off, got an earful from him about it, and left. I had to drive because she was too upset.”

“I’d wondered if there’d been something between them once.”

“There was something.” Jo shrugged. “Then it was gone and so were we.”

It was nice to spend a relaxing afternoon with Risa. It had been a very long time since Jo had had a close female friend besides her mother and Lord knew she wasn’t about to tell Ellen everything going on in her life. There were just some things her mother didn’t need to know. 

~~~~~~~~~~

“Why do you let her go out?” Castiel crossed his arms, slowly walking around Gabriel’s office, studying every part of it. “I mean, you obviously care about Jo. Why let her go out on runs at all? You could easily make her stay here.”

“If I made her stay and it wasn’t her choice to do so, I’d be destroying one of the very things I like most about her -- her fearlessness. That woman is fearless. Not to say she doesn’t make mistakes from that because she’s made some doozies. With mistakes come consequences.” He pointed at the door. The lock clicked, making sure no one would come in. “Or as many consequences as I can bear to let her go through. Believe me, Castiel, watching her recover from wounds is hard. I do want to make it all better for her.”

“So why don’t you?” There was a picture of Jo on the desk. It looked like she was playing with a dog.

“She’s mortal.”

“And?”

“She has to remember that on occasion, especially now that she knows who and what I am and what I can do. I can’t have her careless. Careless and fearless are a fatal combination and as much as I do care for her…. I can’t just keep her alive all the time. People do die and even angels have to feel that loss.”

“How is she fearless?” He went to the wall of weapons, looking them over.

“She’ll run at the enemy to get a job done, never expecting more of her team than she herself is willing to give. I’ve seen her shame men twice her size into pushing on. Jo’s a spitfire and she knows her stuff. Ellen taught her well.”

“That she did, but you want her out of the way. Jo, I mean.” He’d been thinking about that and about how closely Gabriel had been watching him recently. There was a reason for both, he thought.

“Maybe I do. Like you pointed out, I do care about her.”

Castiel stared at the wall a moment longer, then reached up and touched the sword he recognized. He looked over his shoulder with a small amused smile. “So where’s the real one?”

“Safe. I’m not about to leave the real one laying around. That thing is dangerous.”

“Why have a fake out anyway?” He removed his hand from it.

“Because it looks cool there -- and to see just how long it’d take Jo to notice it and put two and two together.” He stacked some papers on the desk. “How did you know it was fake, Castiel? I mean, you being human and all.” His tone indicated that he already knew the answer, he simply wanted Cas to say it.

He moved to the chair and dropped into it, stretching his legs out and crossing his ankles. “The one insignificant little percent of me that is still an angel can tell.”

“Does it look fake?”

“No. It looks real.”

“But you touched it and knew. How?”

Cas sighed. “It feels wrong. It feels fake to touch.” He laced his fingers together across his stomach. “What’s this all about, Gabriel? I mean really. Why’d you ask me to come here to your office?”

Gabriel sat back in his chair. “I’ve been remiss in my duties as your brother.”

“Why care now?”

“You’re all the family I have left. Michael slammed the door, locked me out, and Lucifer shut me away too.”

“My heart bleeds for you. You know, it’s touching to be the last choice. I’m honored by that, really I am, don’t get me wrong, but you can _blow me_.” 

A slow frown pulled Gabriel’s brows down. “I’m trying to do the right thing.”

“Where were you four years ago and who the hell asked you to anyway? I mean, why start now? Why pretend you give a damn about me when you don’t?”

“I have no one left. I --”

“You knew where I was. You could have showed up any time and didn’t.”

“I thought Dean was taking care of you, looking out for you like he did Sam for years.”

“Well, he wasn’t.”

“I know that now. Not like I knew it then.”

“Maybe if you’d bothered to stop by, you would have known.”

They lapsed into silence, staring at each other.

Castiel pulled a noisy breath in through his nose. “Why are you pushing me at all that therapy stuff? The brochures, the schedules slipped under the door, and all that?”

“Don’t you think you need something?”

“Talking to a stranger about my personal problems?”

“Why not? Works for a lot of people.”

“No, thank you. I had something. You won’t let me do any of it. Why are you pushing?”

Gabriel glanced away. “I wasn’t going to talk to you about this yet because I don’t think you’re ready for it, but….” His sigh was tired. “The past three years or so, I’ve been acting as a guardian of sorts for humans. It’s been one of the few things I can do to balance Lucifer’s tantrum out there in the world. I like people, Castiel. I like them very much. We angels were so wrong on them. We let our jealousy blind us.”

“And?” From where he sat, it didn’t look like Gabriel had ever had much jealousy towards humans. He’d always seemed more willing to accept them.

“And I want to save them if I can. I’ve gone forward and we’ve got about a year left, maybe two before Luci’s used up the planet entirely, which means if I’m going to actually do anything to try to stop him it has to be soon. If I wait too long, there won’t be anything for survivors to live on.” He leaned forward and crossed his arms on the edge of the desk. “Now, I could go in alone, face him, but I’d rather have back-up. That’s why I’ve been pushing you. I want you with me. You’re my brother, Castiel. You’re also a soldier. It’s what you were made to be. Can you deny that part of yourself is still there? Join me. Go with me. Fight to save this rock and the people on it. You cared about Dean, loved him deeply. What was he trying to do? Save everything. He may be gone, but I think we still have a chance to turn things around. Help me, brother.”

Castiel shook his head. “Gabriel…. Don’t ask me to do this. Don’t ask me --”

“Please. Consider it. I won’t act until I have your answer, but do think about it. Think about all of it, not just yourself. Consider Risa, Jo, Ellen and the hundreds of people still alive and fighting. They’re _still_ fighting, Cas. Even now, they’re not stopping. Why? Why aren’t they giving up? Because they still see something worth living for.” He sat back again and shook his head. “Can’t you?”

He left a few minutes later, walking to the commissary and making a few purchases on Gabriel’s account, then going back to Jo’s house. He took the items into the bathroom, laid them out on the sink under Risa’s curious, then alarmed gaze, the closed the bathroom door firmly, shutting her out. 

Gabriel had called him a soldier, not once, but several times in their recent conversations. He’d stressed that that was what Castiel was, what he’d been made to be. He was a soldier.

“I’m a soldier,” he said to his reflection. The words were flat, cold. He recalled saying that once to Dean.

‘ _Then why didn’t you fight’_ , came the ghost of Dean’s voice in response.

He stared at his reflection, noted bits of it. The wild beard he’d refused to shave off. Months of growth that he’d barely even trimmed neatly. Why trim it? Why not let his humanity show on his face with unchecked growth? Haunted eyes that told a story all their own. The bitter, cynical twist of his lips.

Gabriel had offered him family, that brotherly bond he’d lost. He’d offered family and friendship. He’d offered safety, refuge, and a full understanding of everything he’d ever been and would be. Gabriel knew him. He’d looked in Castiel’s mind and seen every detestable, ugly human thing in there, yet still he spread his arms in a welcoming hug and said, “Brother.”

Did he want any of that or simply an end to all? Could he become anything but the pathetic, weak human he was now?

He reached for the scissors and raised them, snipping at the beard. With each snip, he felt more relaxed, and when he’d trimmed it in a neat line, he studied himself again.

Where was the old Castiel, the one who’d rebelled because he’d known it was the right thing to do? Where had he gone? Where was that certainty, that _conviction_? Was he too far buried beneath the pain of the man he’d become to try to break free? Could he somehow become a melding of that old, righteous angel and fallen, sinful man?

Cas leaned close to the mirror, peering closely at himself. “Forgive me, Father,” he whispered, “for I _have_ sinned.”

There was no answer, nothing to indicate anyone was listening. He licked his lips, thinking about all that Gabriel had said in that office, how he’d talked about guarding humanity in the last days because it was one of the few things he _could_ do. Dean’s words from a long time ago came back to him.

\-- _I thought angels were supposed to be guardians. Fluffy wings, halos -- You know, Michael Landon. Not dicks._ \--

He’d told Dean to read the Bible, that angels were warriors of God, soldiers. It had never occurred to him that he could have been both a guardian and a soldier.

\-- _Then why didn't you fight?_ \--

Past Dean, looking at him with confusion and concern in his eyes:

\-- _What happened to you?_ \-- 

And later:

\-- _Don't get me wrong, Cas. I, uh, I'm happy that the stick is out of your ass, but -- what's going on -- with the drugs and the orgies and the love-guru crap?_ \--

Gripping the edge of the sink, he leaned closer, looking into his own eyes, still hating what he saw there.

\-- … _supposed to be guardians….warriors of God….soldiers….why didn’t you fight….what happened… --_

“Life happened,” he said, that same thing he’d told past Dean.

He picked up the straight razor he’d bought next and opened it.

This wouldn’t take long.


	12. Chapter 12

Risa sat on the end of the bed and stared at the bathroom door, her hands clasped in her lap.

He’d been in there too long. Risa listened carefully, fearing the worst. While he’d muttered to himself for awhile, he’d stopped that a bit ago. It was too quiet. She’d seen the straight razor, wondered what idiot had given it to him instead of a safety razor or plain electric razor. She braced herself now to knock and open the door, swallowing hard.

She stepped to it, raising her hand and pulling it back twice before rapping on the door, fear rippling through her body. She dreaded opening the door and finding him bleeding on the floor, either dying or dead already. “Cas?” Risa had to say his name several times before she could make any actual sound. Hand trembling, she reached for the knob, shrieking a little when it turned under her hand and the door opened.

Castiel stood there shirtless, a towel over his shoulder. He was clean shaven, a sight she’d never seen in the time she’d known him. There were a few tiny nicks on his throat and jaw. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to shave with a straight razor? I about slit my own throat three or four times. I think I’ll use a safety razor from here on out or see if I can’t find an electric razor somewhere. Maybe have Gabriel get me one.”

She put both hands over her mouth, then reached out and put them on his chest. “Do _you_ have any idea how scared I’ve been sitting out here after seeing that razor? I thought….” Risa shook her head. “Damn it, Castiel, I thought you’d…” She stepped to the wall and leaned against it. Her legs felt like they might collapse beneath her from relief that he was alive. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again! I was having these visions of opening the door and you lying there on the floor, blood everywhere --”

“I was tempted,” he admitted, leaning on the doorframe and cupping her shoulder with a hand. “One slice, end it all.” His fingers slid up, tucked her hair behind her ear, then caressed her jaw. “But right when I raised the blade to do it, I heard Dean’s voice in my head telling me not to be any more of a stupid SOB than I already have been for the past four years; that despite all the crap issues, I’ve got a good thing here with you. This is a good thing, right, Risa? You and me, here in this place? It is good?”

“ _Here_ , we are good.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know if this is the right thing to do. I don’t know that I really know what right is any more, but this feels…right. Gabriel….” Cas put his hand in his jeans pocket. “He said people are fighting because they still see something to live for. He thinks there’s still a chance to save everything and stop Lucifer. Maybe he’s right. And if we fail? The end of the world is already here. Not like we can make things any worse than they already are, right?”

She turned to face him fully, snagged the towel, and wiped away a streak of shaving foam he’d missed. He was beautiful beneath that beard he’d had and Risa drew her fingers along his cheekbones, jaw, chin and down his throat. It was such a different look than she was used to from him. He looked…determined, stronger. No longer merely existing because he had to. If this was a glimpse of the angel he’d been peeking out, he must have been absolutely breathtaking. “You’ve changed. What happened at Gabriel’s office?”

“I’m a soldier, Risa. Somewhere along the way, I think I forgot that. It’s what I was made to be. Gabriel reminded me of that. I’m a soldier and even though I fell, he’s still my brother. He wants to be my brother and friend. He doesn’t care about all the things I’ve done. He accepts me completely. My brother.” He took the towel and tossed it at the bathroom sink. “But it’s not only about what he said there. There’s more to this.”

“Like?”

“I look at you and you’ve got this peace now. You’re working through everything and I want that same sort of peace, too. I want to be able to look at myself in the mirror and not hate what I see. I know I can’t be who and what I was. It’s gone. That’s very clear, but maybe….” His tongue wet his lips in a slow sweep. “I don’t know. Maybe I can be a mix of the old and the new, because I don’t want to be that broken man anymore. I don’t have to be that man. I can’t bury my pains, I know where that leads me. Maybe the other way _would_ be better. I’ve never tried it.” Now he slid his other hand into his other pocket and shrugged. “I think I’m ready to try.” 

“You’re serious?”

He smiled, an actual smile, and it changed his face completely. There was a beauty in that smile that stunned her. “I am and I’m scared to death right now, too. I’m actually feeling a little nauseated here.”

Raising her hand, she touched her fingertips to his lips before that smile could fade.

“What,” he asked, taking her hands in his. She could feel his hands shaking around hers. He really was scared.

“I think I like this new you.”

“Well, it’s new territory for me. I’m sure it won’t be easy. Never is. Gabriel’s not going to let me go back to drugs and alcohol. He can see it in faster than a blink. He won’t let me wallow in pain.”

“I’m glad. I don’t want you in pain, either.”

The smile slipped away. “Risa, he wants me to help him try to save the world and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t mean staying here and cheering for him.”

“Does he have a plan?” She stepped back towards the bed, tugging him with her to the side of it. They sat half facing each other.

“I think so. I’m not certain of the details, but I think it’s probably every bit as iffy as Dean’s plan was, except maybe Lucifer won’t have a trap set.”

She thought about Castiel going with Gabriel to do whatever plan Gabriel had thought up. Likely, he wasn’t coming back from that, but who ever would have thought they’d survive that original mission? They’d beat the odds once. Maybe he could do it twice. “Do you want to go?”

“Honestly, no. But…who else will stand by my brother if I don’t? The rest of our family have shut us both out. We have each other.”

Risa couldn’t argue with that. It sounded to her like the angels were quite a dysfunctional family overall. “Do you think it’ll be soon? Whatever he has planned, I mean.”

“I don’t know. He didn’t think I was ready, whatever that means, so….” He shrugged. “I don’t know. It could be tomorrow or it could be two months from now.” Leaning forward, he kissed her, a slow lingering caress of his lips on hers. “I don’t want to talk about Gabriel’s plan. I want to go out for a few hours and be a couple. Show off my beard-free state.”

“Give me some time to change clothes and let’s go.”

After the scare he’d given her, it was nice to go out somewhere with other people, even if it was only across the base to the bar. 

~~~~~~~~~~

The decision to face everything and try to find some peace in the man he’d become left Castiel feeling fragile, like a pane of old glass that could fall from a window at the slightest breeze and shatter into a million pieces. The sensation was uncomfortable, but he rather thought he was becoming used to discomfort. Gabriel’s refusal to let him slip down into old coping habits had forced him to look at things he would have kept buried.

Without altered states of consciousness, all he could do was think and feel. Without those states, even sex was different. He’d found himself feeling closer to Risa in those intimate moments than he ever had.

Not to say he didn’t notice the other women on the base. Of course he did. He simply had no desire to sample them all like he had at the camp. Maybe Gabriel somehow had something to do with that. Or maybe, he’d grown tired of it all. Moving from woman to woman hadn’t filled the gaping hole in him any more than the drugs and alcohol.

Besides, Risa knew him. As they’d told each other, they were connected by all they’d gone through, a part of each other. She understood him.

He held her hand as they walked across the base to the bar and found a table inside. Ellen was there, at a table with Nathan and Jo. Ellen and Nathan’s heads were bent together over something on the table and Jo was sitting back, gaze doing a slow circuit of the room. It looked like she wasn’t even part of the conversation they were having.

Jo’s head turned, eyes widening when she saw him, a slow grin on her lips. She got up from her chair and made her way to their table. “Well,” Jo cleared her throat, “Cas. Aren’t you the clean-shaven hottie tonight? What, uh, what happened to the mountain man look you had going?”

He rested his hand on Risa’s thigh. “It was time for a change.”

“I completely approve.”

“Thank you.”

She joined them for awhile, sitting and talking until Gabriel showed up, then leaving with a tiny mischievous grin on her lips.

Three days later, he found himself outside Dr. Shelbourne’s office, his heart pounding hard and fast in his chest and his hands clammy. The thought of admitting the worst of himself to a stranger nearly sent him running. He closed his eyes. It was helping Risa and even Gabriel believed he’d benefit from a few sessions. It was one session, right? He didn’t have to go back if he didn’t want to.

Inside the office, he studied the room like he had Gabriel’s office, noting the pictures on the wall, the diplomas in plain black document frames, and books. It was a comfortable room, with a soothing, serene air and some of the nervous tension in his shoulders eased.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he told her, sitting in one chair and leaning his forearms on his knees, his hands clasped. “I don’t know the procedure.”

“What would you like to talk about?”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Where do I start?”

“Wherever you like.” When he didn’t say anything, she prompted, “Why don’t you tell me one thing about yourself that you feel defines who you are today?”

“Pain. My pain defines me.”

“How so?”

He stared at her. Risa was right about her. She had an exceptionally calm, kind demeanor. “In the before, I was righteous. I had holy convictions and I knew very clearly what was right and wrong.” A good way to say it without saying he’d been an angel. “But in the events that led to the world we have now, I fell from that place, lost a piece of myself, that righteousness I’d had. I became increasingly confused, bewildered, and one hurt snowballed into more. Life is pain, doctor. Sadness, anger, despair. When I lost that piece of me, it was like being physically ripped apart, with a gaping hole remaining.”

“There is pain,” she agreed. “Physical, emotional, spiritual. However, in life there are also balances to that pain. Happiness, joy, love. Name me one balance you can see in your life right now. Anything. A person, place, thing. Anything at all.”

“Gabriel, my brother.”

“Why is he a balance for you?”

“Because he accepts me completely without judgment.”

“Good, Castiel. Can you name me any more and give a why?”

Sighing, he sat back, stretching his legs out, becoming more comfortable in tiny increments. “Risa. She’s seen the very worst, darkest, most horrible part of me and still supports me. She holds me when I cry, soothes me when I’m angry, and I don’t understand why she does that after what I did to her.” He thought a minute more. “There’s Jo. She tells it like it is, makes me take a step back and look at myself. They all understand me in different ways.”

“Good ways?”

“Good and bad. Risa and I…. When we were in that house together, it was dark. I don’t mean a little anger sometimes dark, either. I mean full-on emotional manipulation, physically hurting each other just to have something to excite, to feel.” It was easier to talk about it than he’d thought it would be. “But we understood each other, what we needed from each other, and it’s that same understanding now, only lighter, without the fear and desperation. We have a completely different relationship here. It’s almost like we’re just learning about each other, starting over. There’s a newness to everything between us.”

“How do you feel about what occurred in that house?”

“Can’t I write all of it down or something instead of saying it out loud?”

She nodded. “We can employ a journal as part of this if you’re willing, but talking about it is still a part of the process. The journal isn’t a substitute for sessions, Castiel. It’s an additional technique to aid recovery.”

“Oh.” Sighing, he leaned his head back. The longer he sat, the more comfortable the chair became. “How do I feel? Ashamed of what I did to her. In five months, we tore each other down in a cycle of manipulation and fear. That’s shaming to me now. How could I do that to another person? To _Risa_.”

“The human mind reacts to solitude in different ways. What the two of you experienced was one of the more extreme ways.”

“Ending in suicide.”

“True, but neither of you did die. You’re here now.”

“I don’t like the man I was there. Nor do I care to be the man I was before that point.”

“What about the man you are here? Do you like him?”

Castiel had to think about that. Did he like who he was here at the base? He was certainly different due to many factors, such as the lack of external coping methods. “Yes and no. I like who I am better, but I still don’t really like myself.”

“It’s a start.”

“I guess. I want to be able to look in the mirror and not cringe.”

“Are you willing to work to become a man you’ll like? It won’t be easy. There may be setbacks, but you have a support structure already in place -- Gabriel, Jo, and Risa. You have the desire for more for yourself than what you are. Are you willing to work with me?”

He did want to be a different man and if working with her would accomplish that goal faster than on his own, then perhaps he should continue. “Yes.”

That fear he’d had when talking to Risa about it welled up again. It was another scary step, yet as Dr. Shelbourne pointed out, he had support. He had people who loved and cared about him to really help him through it.

Already, he felt better.

~~~~~~~~~~

For over a year, Gabriel had been returning to the entrance to heaven, calling for Michael to talk to him. Sometimes, someone even answered him. He’d refused to give up thinking that perhaps if he was persistent, Michael would eventually do something besides sulk.

“Michael.” Gabriel didn’t yell. He didn’t have to. Michael was there and knew he was there, right outside the door. “Come on, Mike. I know you can hear me.”

There was no sound.

“Say something. Quit being such a dick.”

Silence.

“This doesn’t have to be a world-ender. You know that. I’ve got the keys to the cage. We can pop him back in. I’ll do all the work. All you have to do is help me by keeping him distracted. Throw a mountain at him or something, but don’t just sit in heaven sulking because Dean Winchester didn’t say yes on your terms when you wanted him to. Did you really think he was going to jump because you told him to? Did you know anything about him at all?”

He crossed his arms.

“I told you he’d accepted you. Do you remember that? I told you, just in case you hadn’t heard him and you still ignored us. Even when he did accept you on your terms, you’d changed the rules. Nice.”

He cocked his head. There was a noise, he heard it.

“This doesn’t have to be the end-all, be-all of everything. The cage can be reopened. He can be put back in.”

Another noise. Someone was definitely there.

“You’re not even doing that job God left for you. Did you think about that? _Have_ you thought about that? You gave up. You’re leaving a job unfinished that was entrusted to you. You’re disobeying, Michael. And you had the nerve to cut off Castiel’s powers for that same sin?”

He paced there before the door.

“But hey, you want to be a quitter, fine.” He held up his hands. “That’s such a good example to give the others. Excellent leadership skills bro. I bow in awe of your mad skills.”

Behind that door, he could feel the power growing. Definitely Michael standing there listening -- and becoming angry. Good. Anger was better than the apathy that everyone seemed to be sinking into.

“Help me. What would God say to see you right now? Would Daddy be proud of you? Would he pat you on the back and say ‘good job’? Or would he say ‘Michael, what have you done with what I left in your hands?’. How disappointed would he be in you, in all of us?”

He sighed and glanced around him. 

“You know what? Never mind. You’re not the brother I remember. What happened to him, Michael? The brother I remember knew what the right thing was. Is this right? Sitting up here while Lucifer destroys all of God’s creations one by one, tossing them around like Tinker toys or Legos? Is it right to let him have free reign, to not even try to stop him?”

Despite his fear of Michael lashing out at him, he forged on, goading now, deliberately poking.

“It’s not right and you know it. So why don’t you suck it up, get over your rejection issues, and do something? I probably won’t win, but I’m going to try, and maybe some day God will come home and it’ll be _my_ back God pats, not yours. Maybe he’ll say, ‘Good job, Gabriel. You tried. When the others turned away, you took a stand for my creations.’ Can you see that, Michael? Maybe Castiel will even be there with me.”

It sounded like a lock clicking open, but the door remained firmly in place.

“How’s that look to you? The angel you cut off for his disobedience thanked for trying to save humanity. Maybe he’ll even see God’s face.”

He shrugged.

“And maybe not. Perhaps God won’t come home at all. What if he does? Are you willing to take that chance? Are you willing to hope that your brand of disobedience won’t be found out? Wouldn’t you rather _do_ something and show that at least you tried?”

Gabriel waited awhile longer. There were no further noises, though the sense of coiled power remained. He’d hate to go to battle without some assistance from Michael. It wasn’t likely that he and Castiel could get the job done. Like he’d told Michael, at least they were trying. Gabriel shook his head.

“We’re heading out to meet him on the field tonight, Michael. If you change your mind…that’s where we’ll be. And if you don’t…goodbye, brother.”

Gabriel slipped back down to the earth and to the base, where Castiel was waiting.

“I told Risa I was meeting you and not to wait up.”

“What else did you tell her?”

“Nothing. I wasn’t sure how.”

“I left an explanation with Jo that will be discovered only if we don’t return. She’s asleep right now. I’ve got my sword. We’ll swing by the camp and pick up yours. Even if you can’t kill him with it, it might wound him enough to distract. The rings are in my pocket. We’re as ready as we’re ever going to be.”

“Is this a suicide mission, Gabriel?”

He looked around them, memorizing the layout of the base, praying silently to himself that they _would_ make it back alive. “Most likely. It’s reckless. Neither of us are probably coming back.” Gabriel turned his gaze to Castiel. “Are you still with me?”

Castiel held out his hand. “I’ll stand with you.”

Gabriel took that hand, gripped it tightly. “Then let’s go shove the bull back in his pen.”

In less than the fraction of a second, they were on their way. Let the battle begin, he thought. Brace yourself, Luci, here we come. 


	13. Chapter 13

The cemetery was overgrown with weeds, the headstones and statues cracked and worn. Castiel took his place, hidden from obvious view, while Gabriel strode to the center of the cemetery. Cas had his doubts about this plan. When he’d told Risa it was probably iffy like Dean’s plan, he’d meant it and was correct. Gabriel was going to keep Lucifer distracted while Castiel snuck up and stuck him with the sword, which may or may not kill him since Cas was mostly human. Somewhere along the way, Gabriel also wanted to open up the prison and shove him in for good measure.

Risky, desperate, and reckless? Hell, yes. But what else could they do? 

“Brother.”

“Lucifer.”

Cas crouched and looked at them. He was close enough to see both of their expressions.

“I was surprised you wanted to meet. Our last encounter showed your feelings on my actions quite well.” He crossed his arms. “Come to join me have you? Seen the error of your human loving ways?”

“Actually, I came to contain you.”

Lucifer’s laugh was loud and amused. “You? I’m sorry, Gabriel, but I do have to laugh. The runt of the litter fight me? You _do_ recall that even Michael had trouble the first time? And you think you can stop me?” He ‘tsked’ and beckoned with one hand, condescension on his next words. “Okay, come on. Hit me with your best shot.”

He was still smirking when he came to rest against a headstone halfway across the cemetery, obviously stunned by the strength of Gabriel’s blow. He shook his head. “Not bad, little brother. Not bad at all.”

Castiel gripped the sword tight, watching. Fear made him feel weak. He had to work his way closer, enough to do his job.

“I’ve been working out,” Gabriel said with a shrug.

“You can’t win this fight, Gabriel. Not alone.” Lucifer got to his feet, brushed dirt from his clothes with a fastidious air that Castiel found bizarre. Why did he care if his clothes were dirty?

“Who says I’m alone?”

“Aside from that band of demigods you ran around with once, you tend to work alone. Yes, I know about them, about your hiding in plain sight. Very clever, Gabriel.” He walked back towards Gabriel. “I believe it’s my turn now?”

Gabriel was thrown farther, harder, his landing worse and Castiel winced, expecting Lucifer to press the attack. He didn’t. Why wasn’t he continuing? Was he expecting Gabriel to back down? Yes, that was what he was expecting. Castiel realized it as Gabriel got to his feet and returned to the center of the cemetery. Lucifer was actually concerned about Gabriel.

“Still want to fight? We don’t have to. You go your way again, I go mine, and you agree not to get in my way.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Of course you can.”

Castiel felt a sudden crackling of pure energy and turned his head in that direction. Dean stood at the entrance, only it wasn’t Dean. Cold arrogance fairly radiated from him. It was Michael.

Michael’s gaze turned to Castiel for merely seconds, but in that time, he felt stripped naked. If Gabriel had gleaned most things from his mind, Michael pulled all of it out in the open, seeing him, his motivations, everything. What had been and what was now. He rolled through Castiel’s mind without trying to hide the fact and it was a relief when Michael’s attention slid to Lucifer and Gabriel. That complete scrutiny through Dean’s eyes was worse than anything, leaving him shaking.

“What’s going on here?”

Lucifer and Gabriel froze where they were, heads turning, seeing Michael there.

“What are you attempting, Gabriel? Better do some fast talking little brother, because it looks to me like you’re trying to fight my fight.”

“You can’t be in him, Michael. Not the dead.”

“You think you’re the only one who can put a person back together? The only one who can breathe a soul back into a body? Castiel shoved Dean back in his meat suit. I can surely do the same as a lower level grunt.”

“He was ashes.”

Lucifer watched them, listening, his head cocked. He didn’t strike at either of them, eyes narrowed, assessing.

Michael waved a hand. “Mixed him back up, plucked him from rest, and put him back in. He agreed once. Besides, I figured knowing that that silly toy gun didn’t work would make him agreeable.”

“Did you ask?”

Michael’s chin raised a notch. “I didn’t have to ask. He’d already agreed once.”

Disgust slid over Gabriel’s face. “This is wrong, Mike. You know it is.”

Approval flickered in Lucifer’s eyes.

“What are you crying about? He said it once. I’m merely acting on that compliance.” He came forward. “And when I’m done, he’ll be returned to the dust from which I took him.”

“Brother,” Lucifer began, “you’ve been paying attention to my sort of methods.”

Michael shrugged. “Fight fire with fire, right?”

Gabriel shook his head. “You’re both dicks.”

“Why are you protesting so loudly, Gabriel? I’m here for the party, aren’t I? I’m fashionably late. Or are you just afraid the earth will be too torn up for your little human whore to live when we’re done?”

They weren’t paying any attention to him and Castiel raised from his crouch into a standing position, taking a slow step in Lucifer’s direction. When there was no reaction, he continued forward.

“That’s a terrific point, Michael.” Lucifer crossed his arms. “How _can_ you defile yourself with one of those creatures that way, Gabriel?”

“Might I point out that you’re both in humans right now? Sort of hypocritical seeing as how you’re wearing Sam and Dean.” Gabriel didn’t look at him, gesturing with his hands, raising his voice, and generally doing everything he could to keep their attention on him and off of Castiel. “High and mighty doesn’t exactly work here for either of you.”

This was going to be the day he died. Cas knew it. As the only human present here, it was inevitable that either Michael of Lucifer would take him out. Perhaps he could lay the groundwork for Gabriel to somehow bring a peaceful end to this before he died.

He felt the same euphoric sensation he’d had in that building with Risa.

“Why do you love them, Gabriel,” Lucifer asked, crossing his arms.

“They can do something that apparently none of us ever learned: forgive. They’re not perfect, but that’s all a part of their charm.”

“You prefer them over us.” Michael took a few steps to one side. The move placed him where he could see Castiel slowly working his way towards Lucifer’s back.

“Considering the fact that you locked me out of heaven entirely -- yes.”

“Whine, whine, whine. I’m sick of your whining about that. Is that all you ever do? Maybe we should just put you out of your misery right here and now.”

“You going to kill me, Mike?”

Lucifer chuckled. “Maybe _I_ will, Gabriel. Since you insist in getting in the way.”

Surely Michael knew he was there? He had to see him, yet gave no sign other than that first stare. Castiel moved forward before he could really stop and think about it, adrenaline surging through his body. He raised the sword, was so close --

“Hello, Castiel.” Lucifer whirled. “Come to try to stick me with that, have you? Did you really think I didn’t notice you there?” He raised a hand. “Goodbye, Castiel.”

Cas squeezed his eyes shut, anticipating pain, and reopening them when that pain didn’t occur. He was down the road from the cemetery, so far that he couldn’t see the gates, standing by a sign for the cemetery that had an arrow and the words ‘two miles’. Someone, probably Gabriel, had saved him at the last second, throwing him clear of the field. He wondered if the battle would be over by the time he got back.

Taking a deep breath, he started to run back towards the cemetery.

~~~~~~~~~~

Michael had always been a quick draw. Gabriel remembered that. When Lucifer raised his hand, Gabriel knew what was coming with the words and knew he wasn’t fast enough to send Castiel away to safety. Michael, however, was. He’d anticipated Lucifer’s reaction. Even as Lucifer acted, Michael yanked Castiel away, following that with a blow to Lucifer that was every bit as hard as the one Gabriel had received. As Lucifer came to rest across the cemetery, Michael turned to him.

“If you’re determined to contain him, get it open _now_ while he’s getting up,” he growled. “Hurry! This has to be quick or he’ll pull us both in with him.”

He reached in his pocket for the rings. “You’re on my side?” Gabriel opened the prison, wondering just where Michael had sent Castiel.

“Not the time to chat about it. Get ready.” He was already moving forward to meet Lucifer.

“Two against one? That’s hardly sporting, Michael,” Lucifer called out.

“Like you care about sporting,” was the reply before their bodies hit.

They beat each other against the ground, against trees, and headstones, Lucifer trying to steer clear of the open prison and Michael trying to throw him back into it.

“This isn’t how this is supposed to end,” Lucifer yelled, landing a punch the made Michael stagger back against a statue.

“Plans change,” was Michael’s curt, grunted reply. He used the statue to launch himself, the shove toppling the statue completely.

Both fought hard and fast. Seeing an opening, Gabriel created a sword from a piece of trash on the ground. It wouldn’t kill Lucifer, but hopefully, it’d shock him enough to release Michael and lose his balance. He plunged it into Lucifer’s back, hating that it had to be the back. The ploy worked and in that split second when Lucifer realized it really was two against him and Gabriel wasn’t just standing there watching, Michael was able to pry his fingers free and give him a shove that sent him careening into the prison.

As the prison closed, he saw Castiel come through the cemetery gates. Cas stopped, looked at them, and when he saw no sign of Lucifer, he sat down on the ground with the air of someone exhausted.

Michael’s wounds were gone, all hints of blood with them. “It’s done,” he said, dusting his hands off, then wiping them on his jeans. “You asked for a diversion, I gave you far more.”

“You listened to me. You actually listened.”

He rolled his eyes. “You made a point. It happened to be a good one -- and I always listened to you, Gabriel.”

“I made several points and they were all good.” He moved to a headstone and leaned against it. “But you claiming to always listen? Please.”

“Whatever. Anything else before I go home?”

He did have one thing in mind, something he’d been thinking about. “Restore Castiel.”

Michael flicked his glance towards where Castiel sat waiting, watching him. Cas leaned back on his hands and Michael shook his head. “No.”

“Come on, Mike. Hasn’t he suffered enough?”

“He chose his path, Gabriel.”

“And you cut him off from the power tap, further hastening his descent.”

“He made his decision and has consequences for that.”

“Please.”

“No.” He shook his head. “He’s happy with that female. I can see that in his mind. He’s found some happiness in that human life. Do you want me to take that away, because you know what will happen if he gets the powers back. Those human emotions will go away and he’ll leave her. You want that? It would essentially destroy both of them.”

“Of course I don’t want that.”

“He chose to disobey, which means he knew he’d have consequences from it. Castiel knew he’d be punished. All angels know. Actions always have some sort of consequences. Disobedience must be punished and severely or I’d have garrisons running off all the time. Surely, as a leader for a human army, you’ve come to understand _my_ responsibilities? One soldier deserting can lead to more and I had to act on how I thought best for those under my command. His disobedience was punished. To take that back now and restore him would show me as weak and pliable. I can’t be either. Even coming here and aiding you has cast doubt on me.”

“Oh, please. Anyone seeing you as weak is an idiot.”

Michael paced a moment, touched a forefinger to his lips, then pointed it his direction. “There’s one thing I _can_ do for Castiel, however, a thing that may…help with the wild range of feelings he’s been overwhelmed by.” He gestured with both hands.

“What would that be?”

Michael pursed his lips and blew out a long breath. “Since he’s not an angel anymore, he has no need of a live soul in that body that said ‘yes’. I can part Jimmy Novak from him, send Jimmy on to rest, leaving Castiel in sole possession of that body.” His brows rose. “It’s all I can give and as far as the others know, it’ll deepen the feelings, make his punishment worse. It’s not something I’m forbidden to do. There’s leeway.”

“Will it make it worse?”

Michael leaned forward a little, voice lowering as if imparting a secret. “No. It’ll ease the feelings because he’s been feeling Jimmy’s emotions as well. He’ll feel better. It’s all I can do.”

“Then do it. Will he know when it happens?”

“Possibly.”

“Do it.”

Michael snapped his fingers. “Done.”

Castiel gasped and sat up very straight for a few long seconds, then slowly relaxed, a confused expression upon his face.

“Look, I came down here because your point was a good one, your arguments sound. I shoved Lucifer back in despite your outright attempt at assassination and threw Castiel out of the way when Lucifer would have killed him. Don’t read more into this. You have the earth and the people you like so much. I’ve done you enough favors. You all get to live to fight another day. Croatoan is gone, the infected with it. Begin anew without fear.”

“Don’t be such a dick.”

“According to you and Dean Winchester that’s all we angels are.”

“I _am_ an angel.”

He snorted. “In a class all your own.”

“So sue me for being different.”

“You want to play guardian over the earth, fine. Just remember it’s all on you if God does come home and finds the fight didn’t end how it was supposed to.”

“Oh, it did, Mike. You two still fought, but you showed compassion for dad’s creations by containing Lucifer again. Don’t you think that might count for something?”

“Perhaps.” He glanced at Cas again. “But like I said. It’s on you, not me. Play guardian, live with your human lover. Don’t expect any help from us, Gabriel. This is where it ends.”

“You know you’ll be watching,” he told Michael. “You can’t look away.” There was a spark of curiosity in his eyes now, because if Gabriel, his archangel brother, would fight so hard to save humanity, there _must_ be something there he’d not noticed. “Some day, you might even be curious enough to reopen the gates of heaven and come down for a visit.”

“Don’t hold your breath.”

“Oh, I’m a champion at that. Bet I can out wait you.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “You’re trying at times and rather juvenile, but I do love you.” He slid his hands into his jacket pockets and added, “I do love all of my brothers and sisters. And Gabriel? I did give Dean the choice. Knowing what he knew, would he accept me and aid you in taking care of the Lucifer problem? Or would he rather stay at rest? He didn’t even have to think about it. So maybe I’m not such a dick after all, hmm?”

He was gone then, leaving Gabriel alone with Castiel.

Gabriel walked to where Castiel was sitting, thinking the first kind thoughts he had about Michael in a very long time. Dick or not, he’d come through in the end. 

Cas looked up at him. “Is it over?”

He laid a hand on his shoulder. “It’s done. The end has passed. Lucifer is contained once more.” He gave Castiel’s shoulder a squeeze and released it. “Mike’s gone back upstairs.”

“What about Dean?”

“Took Dean with him like he said he would.” He joined him, sitting beside him. “He won’t restore you, Cas. I asked him to and he said no.”

“Did he say why?”

“Surprisingly, yes. He said that you’re happy with Risa and restoring you would destroy both of you.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“What’s the rest of it, because I don’t recall Michael giving a damn about happiness, least of a human’s.”

Gabriel sighed. “You do know us, don’t you? He said you made a choice, choices have consequences and he won’t negate those. Basically, you have to face the results of your actions and we angels aren’t exempt from that.” It was the same thing he did with Jo when she got hurt on the job. He let her feel the consequences. He did it from an affection, a love for her. Could it be inferred that Michael acted from an affection for Castiel? He _had_ said he loved all of his brothers and sisters.

“I _am_ happy with Risa,” Castiel admitted. “She makes me happy.”

“You knew you’d have to face your actions eventually.”

“I did. But I didn’t realize how much agony would occur.”

He considered all that had happened and decided to venture a question. “Given a second chance at that point, where you made that clear decision, would you do it again? I mean, knowing it causes you that much pain.”

Castiel tipped his head back, gaze traveling across the sky. His reply was slow in coming, yet the word itself was said with a certainty. “Yes.”

“Why?”

He sighed and shrugged, turning his head and meeting Gabriel’s gaze. “Because…helping Dean was still the right thing to do. No matter what happened later, it was right, a righteous decision. I knew it then and I know it now.”

Gabriel put his arm around Cas in a half-hug. “Do you even realize how strong you are?”

“Me?” He laughed. “I’m not strong. I’m weak. I think that’s been amply shown.”

“No, brother. You’re strong. You’d do all of it all over again because the decision you’d made was the right one to make. You’d face agony and earthly hell. How many of us in heaven and on earth would do that? It’s strength to realize you’d not change a single thing despite the pain the action caused you. You’re stronger than most, Castiel. I think if anyone can survive the fall to humanity, it’s you.”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe? Tell me, how do you feel right now? I mean physically?”

“Physically? Fine, I guess. Tired.”

“Emotionally, then?” 

“Now that’s a difference. It’s strange. I feel weird. Almost…calm.” He shrugged. “Happened suddenly.” 

“I can explain that.” Gabriel got to his feet. “Michael took Jimmy with him when he left. That body is all yours now. He said you’ve been feeling not only your emotions but Jimmy’s as well. With Jimmy gone, that should ease.”

“Am I fully human then?”

“No. Once an angel, always one. That tiny percent of angel is still there, but it’s so little you hardly needed Jimmy there.” He held out a hand to help Cas up, smiling a little when Cas did take that hand. “Well, shall we go back?”

In a blink, they were back at the base in the same place they’d left from. He released Castiel’s hand. He asked Cas to wake Risa and go to the south gate at dawn. It was only about an hour away.

Gabriel took a walk around the base, smiling as he did so, because for these people, the world was now safer. They’d all wake to a world changed for the better and someday, history books would once more make references to the mystery of Croatoan. Where had they gone? Why had they gone? The fact of the Apocalypse would be forgotten and life would go on.

He took a deep breath. The air smelled sweeter, the atmosphere felt lighter, and he couldn’t wait to see the reactions of all he knew.

He returned to his house and slid into bed beside Jo, carefully wrapping an arm around her and drawing her to him. She made a contented noise, snuggling back.

“Mmmm. Where’ve you been all night?”

“I had something to take care of.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her neck.

“Like what?”

“Like ending the Apocalypse. It’s over. Michael came through at the last minute with a bit of subterfuge that really had me believing it was him and Luci against me and Cas.”

She shifted to lie on her back. “Wait, what? What did you do, Gabriel?”

“I made this world a safer place. Well….” He raised up on his forearm and brushed her hair back from her forehead. “Castiel and I did, with Michael’s assistance. A lot of Michael’s assistance.”

“How? How did you stop it? And what did you mean Michael came through? Dean was dead --”

“He raised him, gave him the options. He was the honorable, righteous Michael I remember.” He pressed a kiss to her mouth. “What’s say we go take a gander out the south gate at the Croat free world? Meet Castiel and Risa there?”

“At dawn?”

“I think it’s a good time.”

She was ready in minutes.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Castiel strolled slowly back to Jo’s house. The end had been averted. It still didn’t feel real to him. Michael had actually helped contain Lucifer. He shook his head in disbelief, wondering how that had come about. However it had happened, he was glad. The fight _had_ happened, but not the way it had been foretold. It hadn’t been the ultimate smack down destroying the world completely, but rather a containment effort that saved what world was left.

He was glad Dean was at rest; that he’d chosen to leave it long enough to finish the fight. Without him and Michael, both Cas and Gabriel would have died. He knew it.

Going into the house, he woke Risa, handing her clothes. “Risa, come on.”

There was a difference in the air now, that calm that occurs when a storm has finally passed on. He could feel it and wanted her to as well.

She asked sleepy questions he didn’t answer, while he stood fidgeting.

“Hurry.”

“Cas, what’s going on?” Her hair was mussed from sleep and she ran a hand through it. “Where’s my brush?”

“Don’t worry about it. You look beautiful.” He beckoned with a hand. “You need to come now. Hurry up.”

Once she was dressed, he led her outside, towards the south gate that was always a trouble spot. It was the place the Croats headed for every time. The base was quiet.

“Feels strange out here,” she said.

The sky was lightening, dawn approaching.

Gabriel and Jo were waiting at the gate. It was open.

Upon seeing that, Risa gave a sharp tug, trying to pull her hand from his. “The gate! It shouldn’t be open!”

He embraced her, held her tight to him. “It’s okay. Trust me. Do you trust me, Risa?” This was a moment of pure trust. If she wanted to run, he’d let her go.

Her lips parted and she looked at Jo and Gabriel, who were both calm. She took a deep breath. “Every part of me says to run.”

“You don’t have to. It’s over. The Apocalypse is done.”

“Done? What do you mean done?”

“Stopped. It’s over and there’s nothing to be afraid of. Do you trust me?” He slid his hands to her arms, trailed them down to grasp her hands and squeeze them.

Her gulp was loud. “Yes, Castiel, I trust you.”

He smiled at her and led her towards the gate, stopping beside Gabriel and Jo.

“It’s a brand new day from here on out,” Gabriel said, his arm around Jo. “This world will be what we make it.”

“It’s really over,” Risa asked. “No more Croats? No more…fear of infection?”

Castiel nodded. “It’s really over.” For the first time in a very long time, he was hopeful for the future. For himself, for Risa, and for them both together. They still had issues to work through, of course, singly and together, but now there was time to do that. There was time to try learning how to like being human.

Gabriel motioned towards the outside. “Let it not be said that we’re not gentlemen. Ladies first.”

A week earlier, there would have been Croats running at them. Now, all was quiet in the rosy rays of the rising sun. Jo went out first, looking back until Risa joined her. Castiel exchanged a glance with Gabriel and together they stepped forward. They stood there, an angel and a former angel, their human women between them, watching the sun shine brightly on the first day of a new earth, one without an Apocalypse hanging over it.

Risa slipped her arm around his waist and leaned against him. “So…. Did you leave us here like helpless girlfriends?”

Jo glanced at Gabriel. “ _See_. Not just me who thinks that.”

“You did, didn’t you?” Risa’s voice was resigned.

“It’s that whole protection thing,” Jo commented. “Still, to _not_ have to fight the biggest, baddest monster ourselves? I think I can excuse it. I’ve had about all the monsters I can take for awhile.”

“Me too.”

Reveille rang out loud and clear in the air.

A new day had come for all of them.


End file.
